Call it… joy. The thing like pleasure that you feel when you’ve done a good thing or passed up a real tempting chance to do a bad thing. Or when the unfolding of the universe just seems especially apt. It’s nowhere near as flashy and intense as pleasure can be. Believe me! But it’s got something going for it. Something that can make you do without pleasure, or even accept a lot of pain, to get it.
Spider Robinson, God is an Iron
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A Year With God
A Year With Jesus
Antediluvian
Inheritance
John of the Apocalypse
Somewhere Obscurely
The Wrong Side of Morning