If you were made of yarn, if your character was represented by different colors--red being love, green being envy, and so on and so forth--and if a loose thread of chartreuse cynicism hung off the end of your big toe and a passer-by yanked, would you completely unravel? If you were to separate your lower case (g)ods from the things that will forever remain, if you were to collect them into two separate piles and set a match to those which will eventually burn anyway, would you have anything left to show?
If profiles were made of faith, hope, and love, if virtues could cast shadows against walls, would you be the tallest man on earth, or would you cast little more than a crescent's sliver?
These are the things I'm asking myself these days. These are the things that make me grateful for a a wide-berthed mercy.