I wish that I could share with you the utter joy it brings me to spend three hours on a Saturday afternoon reading Emerson, or Melville, or Virginia Woolf... or discussing T.S. Eliot or James Baldwin with a dear friend until dawn... the fulfillment that I get from going to church, from reading theology, from reading science, from... praying. But I can't. Because I am me, and you are you, I can't relate to the total fulfillment that I get from these things. It's impossible.