Bokelskere.no

Long views depressed Parker. You look out into space like that and you begin to feel as if someone were after you, the navy or the government or religion.

With grown people, a road led either to heaven or hell, but with children there were always stops along the way where their attention could be turned with a trifle.

She thought the word, Jesus, should be kept inside the church building like other words inside the bedroom. She was a good Christian woman with a large respect for religion, though she did not, of course, believe any of it was true.

The girl had taken the Ph.D. in philosophy and this left Mrs. Hopewell at a complete loss. You could say, "My daughter is a nurse," or "My daughter is a schoolteacher," or even "My daughter is a chemical engineer." You could not say, "My daughter is a philosopher." That had ended with the Greeks and Romans.

She had never given much thought to the devil for she felt that religion was essentially for those people who didn't have the brains to avoid evil without it. For people like her, for people of gumption, it was a social occasion providing the opportunity to sing; but if she had ever given it much thought, she would have considered the devil the head of it and God the hanger-on.

He had found out already this morning that he had been made by a carpenter named Jesus Christ. Before he had thought it had been a doctor named Sladewall, a fat man with a yellow mustache who gave him shots and thought his name was Herbert, but this must have been a joke.

The past and the future were the same thing to him, one forgotten and the other not remembered; he had no more notion of dying than a cat.

"She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."