In these pages I write not from scholarship in philosophy or religion, or even in psychology. What I portray about the nature of our being comes chiefly from the hues of the many people who have trusted me with so much of their lives. Of course, it is likely that those colors are mixed with the pigments of my own experiences. I cannot tell how generally faithful are my portraits of our human countenance. I am warmed that more than a few people have expressed their recognition of kinship with the faces I have drawn from my palette.