He knew only that the child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke.
Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that. You forget some things, dont you? Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.
It’s snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down. He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom.
He said the right dreams for a man in peril were dreams of peril and all else was the call of languor and of death.
He thought that in the history of the world it might even be that there was more punishment than crime but he took small comfort from it.
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