The journals of Merton, Woolf and others encouraged me to see my birthday as a new beginning—and to live my 50th year as a year of jubilee.
Faith and doubt are often posed as opposites. Yet Thérèse of Lisieux and Virginia Woolf are part of the same history.
During spring break I made a pilgrimage. With my husband and my daughter, I traced the path Virginia Woolf took through Italy in 1908.
As we settle into our every-week publishing schedule, some Century editors review some of the books that absorbed their attention over the summer.John Buchanan:
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