The Death Of God Left The Angels

Is It Permitted To Differ With Kierkegaard? Not Only Permitted But Necessary. If You Love Him.

Now It Is Necessary To Court Her, And Win Her, And Put On This Clean Dressing Gown, And Cut My Various Nails, And Drink Something That Will Kill The Millions Of Germs In My Mouth, And Say Something Flattering, And Be Witty And Bonny, And Hale And Kinky, All Just To Ease This Wrinkle In The Groin. It Seems A High Price.

I Keep Wondering If, Say, There Is Intelligent Life On Other Planets, The Scientists Argue That Something Like Two Percent Of The Other Planets Have The Conditions, The Physical Conditions, To Support Life In The Way It Happened Here, Did Christ Visit Each And Every Planet, Go Through The Same Routine, The Agony In The Garden, The Crucifixion, And So On.

Goals Incapable Of Attainment Have Driven Many A Man To Despair, But Despair Is Easier To Get To Than That -- One Need Merely Look Out Of The Window, For Example.

--why Are We Fighting Them? --they're Mad. We're Sane. --how Do We Know? --that We're Sane? --yes. --am I Sane? --to All Appearances. --and You, Do You Consider Yourself Sane? --i Do. --well, There You Have It. --but Don't They Also Consider Themselves Sane? --i Think They Know. Deep Down. That They're Not Sane. --how Must That Make Them Feel? --terrible, I Should Think. They Must Fight Ever More Fiercely, In Order To Deny What They Know To Be True. That They Are Not Sane.