Life Is Very Marvelous... And

People Never Want To Be Told Anything They Do Not Believe Already.

Here Was The Astounding Fact: The Race Did Go Forward; The Race Did Achieve; And In Every Way The Race Grew Better. Progress Through Irrational And Astounding Blunders, Whose Outrageousness Bedwarfed The Wildest Cliches Of Romance, Was What Kennaston Found Everywhere. All This, Then, Also Was Foreplanned, Just As All Happenings At Storisende Had Been, In His Puny Romance; And The Puppets, Here To, Moved As They Thought Of Their Own Volition, But Really In Order To Serve A Denouement In Which Many Of Them Had Not Any Personal Part Or Interest...

I Fear You And, Yes, I Love You: And Yet I Cannot Believe. Why Could You Not Let Me Believe, Where So Many Believed? Or Else, Why Could You Not Let Me Deride, As The Remainder Derided So Noisily? O God, Why Could You Not Let Me Have Faith? For You Gave Me No Faith In Anything, Not Even In Nothingness. It Was Not Fair.

There Is No Escaping, At Times, The Gloomy Suspicion That Fiddling With Pens And Ink Is, After All, No Fit Employment For A Grown Man.

I Am Willing To Taste Any Drink Once.