I am not fond of starting a new blog. This one seems particularly half-witted and non-intuitive. However, I may possibly grow to like it.
Passing thoughts end up, sometimes (if one’s quick enough), on scraps of paper. Here are two, rolled into one:
When you die, you float into the arms of God, as he – whilst never having had much of an opinion of himself, preferring realism to hope – becomes your consciousness, death having released you from the solitude of your own.
William Lambton 
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I am not fond of starting a new blog. This one seems particularly half-witted and non-intuitive. However, I may possibly grow to like it.
Passing thoughts end up, sometimes (if one’s quick enough), on scraps of paper. Here are two, rolled into one:
When you die, you float into the arms of God, as he – whilst never having had much of an opinion of himself, preferring realism to hope – becomes your consciousness, death having released you from the solitude of your own.
I like them.
Boo!