Suppose Everyone On Our Side Felt That

I Can't Start Writing Until I Have A Closing Line.

Just For Once I'd Like To See All These Things Sort Of Straightened Out, With Each Person Getting Exactly What He Deserves. It Might Give Me Some Confidence In This Universe.

So Many Things Were Testing His Faith. There Was The Bible, Of Course, But The Bible Was A Book, And So Were Bleak House, Treasure Island, Ethan Frome And The Last Of The Mohicans. Did It Then Seem Probable, As He Had Once Overheard Dunbar Ask, That The Answers To Riddles Of Creation Would Be Supplied By People Too Ignorant To Understand The Mechanics Of Rainfall? Had Almighty God, In All His Infinite Wisdom, Really Been Afraid That Men Six Thousand Years Ago Would Succeed In Building A Tower To Heaven?

Where Are The Snowdens Of Yesteryear?

How Did I Get Here? Somebody Pushed Me. Somebody Must Have Set Me Off In This Direction And Clus-ters Of Other Hands Must Have Touched Themselves To The Controls At Various Times, For I Would Not Have Picked This Way For The World.