I am excited to have more children, largely because I have a lot to do, and after a certain increase in their muscle mass and spiritual faculty, a child can help me to do it.

The legal possibility of abortion trains women and men to swat away the female experience of being in media res, already committed, already loving, already nourishing whether she would or no, and to take on an imitation of prototypically male anxieties: is it really mine? Do I really want it? The very possibility that, after all, I may kill it, may “terminate,” may become not-mother, negates the female into a perverse image of the male—who looks upon a pregnancy from the outside.

The screen shapes us into secretive people; pornography gives us the secret to keep.

Goliath represents the impulse to put all our hope in man; to stockpile; to amass; to find salvation in the strength of a singular Giant. This is why Goliath is so very big. David represents the Jewish impulse to put all our hope in God. This is why he, David, is so very small.

Gawk at an idea with me, an idea so basic to our thought that its wackiness goes undetected: gawk upon moral progress.

It is stupid to name generations; furthermore, it is tasteless; also, I think it mean-spirited.

The best way to make a baby laugh is to pretend to kill it.

“Not to us, Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory.” This is the cry of the family.

If “the Church came to assume Roman political forms” it is equally obvious that she then came to discard them.