Insecurity Twists Meanings And Poisons Trust. In

We Forget Very Easily What Gives Us Pain.

I Hate You, God. I Hate You As Though You Actually Exist.

Have You Seen A Room From Which Faith Has Gone? Like A Marriage From Which Love Has Gone. And Patience, Patience Everywhere Like A Fog.

It Seemed To Scobie That Life Was Immeasurably Long. Couldn’t The Test Of Man Have Been Carried Out In Fewer Years? Couldn’t We Have Committed Our First Major Sin At Seven, Have Ruined Ourselves For Love Or Hate At Ten, Have Clutched At Redemption On A Fifteen-year-old Deathbed?

The Argument Of Danger Only Applies To Those Who Live In Relative Safety.