He found her walking slowly up and down an allee of elms, through the leaves of which the bright September sunshine sifted down.
The first one hundred pages of the book struck me as very Taylorian. Ratzinger’s description of the believer and the unbeliever standing side-by-side whispering “perhaps” into each other’s ears sounds not unlike Charles Taylor’s suggestion that we can’t help but live our faith “in a condition of doubt and uncertainty.”
The dough is passed through the pasta machine several times.
That morning Liam made three wrong turns, one that ended on a shaky dock built of oiled piling and worm-eaten planks jutting over the road, one that ended in a minisubdivision of six two-story houses on a perfect circle, all with identical blue vinyl siding, green asphault shingles, and rooster weather vanes, and a third that would have taken him twenty-five miles south to the small air force base at the end of the road.
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