I Have Never Read Horror, Nor Do

As Far As God Goes, I _am_ A Nonbeliever. Still Am. But When It Comes To A Devil---well, That's Something Else.

God Never Talks. But The Devil Keeps Advertising, Father. The Devil Does A Lot Of Commercials.

For I Think Belief In God Is Not A Matter Of Reason At All; I Think It Finally Is A Matter Of Love.

Would You Like To Hear A Nice Definition Of Jealousy? It's The Feeling That You Get When Someone You Absolutely Detest Is Having A Wonderful Time Without You.

Every Man That Ever Lived Craved Perfect Happiness, The Detective Poignantly Reflected. But How Can We Have It When We Know We’re Going To Die? Each Joy Was Clouded By The Knowledge It Would End. And So Nature Had Implanted In Us A Desire For Something Unattainable? No. It Couldn’t Be. It Makes No Sense. Every Other Striving Implanted By Nature Had A Corresponding Object That Wasn’t A Phantom. Why This Exception? The Detective Reasoned. It Was Nature Making Hunger When There Wasn’t Any Food. We Continue. We Go On. Thus Death Proved Life.