Men To Whom God Is Dead Worship

Speaks Well Of A Man To Need A Little Something In This World. I Wouldn't Trust A Man Who Could Git Through It Cold Sober.

We Want To Be Famous As A Writer, As A Poet, As A Painter, As A Politician, As A Singer, Or What You Will. Why? Becauwse We Really Don't Lov What We Are Doing. If You Loved To Sing, Or To Paint, Or To Write Poems - If You Really Loved It - You Would Not Be Concerned With Whether You Are Famous Or Not. ... Our Present Education Is Rotten Because It Teaches Us To Love Nothing Is Allowed To Die In A Society Of Storytelling People.

Survival Is Triumph Enough.

The Truth Of The Matter Was Stories Was Everything And Everything Was Stories. Everybody Told Stories. It Was A Way Of Saying Who They Were In The World. It Was Their Understanding Of Themselves. It Was Letting Themselves Know How They Believed The World Worked, The Right Way And The Way That Was Not So Right.

Hell Came Right Along With God, Hand In Hand. The Stink Of Sulfur Swirled In The Air Of The Church, Fire Burned In The Aisles, And Brimstone Rained Out Of The Rafters. From The Evangelist's Oven Mouth Spewed Images Of A Place With Pitchforks, And Devils, And Lakes Of Fire That Burned Forever. God Had Fixed A Place Like That Because He Loved Us So Much.