"It was the hat. He looked sweet in the hat. How could a man in a fuzzy blue hat have used human bones to pave his roads?"

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There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing. (They hang there, the stars, like notes on a page of music, free-form verse, silent mysteries swirling in the blue like jazz.) And as I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there somewhere.

— Donald Miller