We can no more do without spirituality than we can do without food, shelter, or clothing.

God gives some more than others because some accept more than others.

We've got nothing, but we have everything we need. I've got my wife, my son. We've got food and shelter, and we feel fortunate to have that because many people don't.

Cats know how to obtain food without labor, shelter without confinement, and love without penalties.

I cleaned the shit off my pink high-tops and drove home, stopping for an espresso at the coffeehouse across from the college. Men and women were hunched over copies of Jean Paul Sartre and writing in their journals. Most wore the thin-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses favored by intellectuals. Their clothes were faded to a precisely fashionable degree; you can buy them that way from catalogs now, new clothes processed to look old. The intellectuals looked at me in my overalls the way such people inevitably look at farmers.

I dumped a lot of sugar in my espresso and sipped it delicately at a corner table near the door. I looked at them the way farmers look at intellectuals.

To a historian libraries are food, shelter, and even muse.