Faith Is Simply Whatever Is Real To

If There Is Any Good In Life, In History, In My Own Past, I Invoke It Now. I Invoke It With All The Passion With Which I Have Lived.

...history It Seemed Could Be Something Entirely Different A Splash Of Blood Whose Agony Didn't Fade Overnight Or Over Centuries.

Today I Will Go To Wait For Her Again, Because I Cannot Help It, Because My Whole Being Seems Now To Be Bound Up In The Being Of One So Different From Myself And Yet So Exquisitely Familiar That I Can Scarely Understand What Has Happened.

The Thing That Most Haunted Me That Day, However...was The Fact That These Things Had - Apparently - Actually Occurred...for All His Attention To My Historical Education, My Father Had Neglected To Tell Me This: History's Terrible Moments Were Real. I Understand Now, Decades Later, That He Could Never Have Told Me. Only History Itself Can Convince You Of Such A Truth. And Once You've Seen That Truth - Really Seen It - You Can't Look Away.

And How Could Anyone Consent To Give Up The Smell Of Open Books, Old Or New?