He Who Spits Paan At The Ceiling

If There Was An Abundance Of Misery In The World, There Was Also Sufficient Joy, Yes - As Long As One Knew Where To Look For It.

After All, Our Lives Are But A Sequence Of Accidents - A Clanking Chain Of Chance Events. A String Of Choices, Casual Or Deliberate, Which Add Up To That One Big Calamity We Call Life.

Remembering Bred Its Own Peculiar Sorrow. It Seemed So Unfair: That Time Should Render Both Sadness And Happiness Into A Source Of Pain.

In The End, It’s All A Question Of Balance.

…god Is A Giant Quiltmaker. With An Infinite Variety Of Designs. And The Quilt Is Grown So Big And Confusing, The Pattern Is Impossible To See, The Squares And Diamonds And Triangles Don’t Fit Well Together Anymore, It’s All Become Meaningless. So He Has Abandoned It.