"This life of ours is like a street that passes many doors", Ball said, "nor think you all the doors I mean are wood. Every day's a door and every night. When a man throws wide his arms to you in friendship, it's a door he opens same as when a woman opens hers in wantonness. The street forks out, and there's two doors to choose between. The meadow that tempts you to rest your bones and dream a while. The rack-ribbed child that begs for scraps the dogs have left. The sea that calls a man to travel far. They are all doors, some God's and some the Fiend's. So choose with care which ones you take, my son, and one day - who can say - you'll reach the holy door itself."
-Frederick Buechner, Godric