“When a question has no correct answer, there is only one honest response.
The gray area between yes and no.
Silence.”
― Dan Brown, The da Vinci Code

“Every faith in the world is based on fabrication. That is the definition of faith―acceptance of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove. Every religion describes God through metaphor, allegory, and exaggeration, from the early Egyptians through modern Sunday school. Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessible. The problems arise when we begin to believe literally in our own metaphors.

Should we wave a flag and tell the Buddhists that we have proof the Buddha did not come from a lotus blossom? Or that Jesus was not born of a literal virgin birth? Those who truly understand their faiths understand the stories are metaphorical.”
― Dan Brown, The da Vinci Code

“Coincidence was a concept he did not entirely trust. As someone who had spent his life exploring the hidden interconnectivity of disparate emblems and ideologies, Langdon viewed the world as a web of profoundly intertwined histories and events. The connections may be invisible, he often preached to his symbology classes at Harvard, but they are always there, buried just beneath the surface.”
― Dan Brown, The da Vinci Code

“The Last Supper is supposed to be thirteen men. Who is this woman?

"Everyone misses it, our preconceived notions of this scene are so powerful that our mind blocks out the incongruity and overrides our eyes.”
― Dan Brown, The da Vinci Code

“Under The Octagon by Stewart Stafford

Under the octagon of glass and steel,
A careworn man sits at his desk and sighs,
He longs to leave this place of chilly lies,
And find a hidden treasure that is real.

He knows a code that he can’t reveal,
A sepulchre where the Holy Grail lies,
He found it with his providence eyes,
A numinous and haunting view that heals.

He takes a penknife from his drawer and peels,
His finger till he sees a key inside,
He wraps his wound and leaves without a guide,
He runs towards the garden, full of zeal.

He finds the rhododendrons and the birch,
He digs beneath the wisteria with care,
Cracks open the tomb, and discovers there,
A golden bird sitting upon its perch.

"Back! Thou tomb-raiding thief."
It squawks, its voice so stern,
"Cleanse thyself, endeavour to learn.
Do not touch the Grail without belief!"

Caving in, he seals the grave,
The aureate avian conveys his thanks,
The plumage rejoining arcane ranks,
The man seeks out a confessor's nave.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved”
― Stewart Stafford