I finished up my lunchtime emailing and web-browsing and before getting back to work clicked over to a news site just to see if anything major had happened in the last couple of hours, and I see that William F. Buckley, Jr. has died. I'm not surprised; I had read that he was devastated when his wife died not so long ago. I can't say that the man himself had a great deal of influence on me, but the magazine he founded had a fair amount. Perhaps I'll write a bit more on that in the next day or so. Meanwhile, a brief prayer for his soul.

A few years ago he wrote about selling the sailing yacht on which he apparently spent a fair amount of his time. In closing, he described it as an exercise in giving up things, in preparation for giving up everything.

Update: If you want to get an idea of his influence and the affection and respect he inspired, take a look at National Review's blog—scroll down to Kathryn Lopez's announcement at 2/27 11:13 and read upward.

Update #2: Via Ross Douthat, here is the passage I was thinking of.

I'm having trouble parsing that last sentence and am wondering if there is a misprint in it, but the sentiment is clear.