If I get to wrapped up in how I have to be, or what I have to do, things gradually get worse and worse.
God, for example, appealed to me as a beardless man wearing a quilted silk cap; holiness was something burning, forbidding, something connected with fire while a day had the form of an oblong box.
A tall, thin old man waving a scorecard from the corner of his dugout. That's baseball.