Me: God, can I ask You a question? God: Sure Me: Promise You won’t get mad God: I promise Me: Why did You let so much stuff happen to me today? God: What do u mean? Me: Well, I woke up late God: Yes Me: My car took forever to start God: Okay Me: at lunch they made my sandwich wrong & I had to wait God: Huummm Me: On the way home, my phone went DEAD, just as I picked up a call God: All right Me: And on top of it all off, when I got home ~I... Read more »
"This Is Beautiful! Try Not to Cry" Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?” The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.” Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?” The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in... Read more »
A baby asked God, “They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small ‘n helpless?” “Your angel will be waiting for you ‘n will take care of you.” The child further inquired, “But tell me, here in heaven I don’t have to do anything but sing ‘n smile to be happy.” God said, “Your angel will sing for you ‘n will also smile for you. ‘n you will feel your angel’s love ‘n be very happy.” Again the child asked, “‘n how am I going to be able... Read more »
There’s a part of me that will always believe that Angel is Buffy’s true love. That there will be a piece of her heart that will always be with him for the rest of her life.
When I got to the end of this play, I realized I was trying to make Angel do something that had not been justified by the characters and by their story . . .. I kept trying to force it, but that doesn't work. So I had to come to terms with what it meant for me to create a character who doesn't triumph.
Sometimes, the Angel [of Music] leans over the cradle... and that is how there are little prodigies who play the fiddle at six better than men of fifty, which, you must admit is very wonderful. Sometimes, the Angel comes much later, because the children are naughty and won't learn their lessons or practice their scales. And sometimes, he does not come at all, because the children have a wicked heart or a bad conscience.
The history of man is essentially zoological; it becomes human late in the day, and then only in the beautiful souls, the souls alive to justice, goodness, enthusiasm, and devotion. The angel shows itself rarely and with difficulty through the highly-organized brute.