This is approximately the way Christendom relates to the essentially Christian, the unconditioned. After seventeen, eighteen detours and running all … - Søren Kierkegaard

My doubt goes like this: How could the Loving One have the heart to let human beings become so guilty that they got his murder on their consciences?

The more one suffers, the more, I believe, has one a sense for the comic.

I assume that Luther has risen from the grave. For several years now he has been living among us but incognito; he has been observing the lives we lead, has been scrutinizing everyone in this regard and me also. I assume that he speaks to me one day and says, “Are you a believer? Do you have faith?” Anyone who knows me as an author will see that I would perhaps be the one who might come off best of all in such and examination, for I have continually said, “I do not have faith” – I have expressed, as does a bird's alarmed flight before a storm, that there is mischief brewing here, “I do not have faith.” So I should say to Luther, “No, dear Luther, I have at least shown the respect of saying: I do not have faith.” However, I shall not press this, but, just as others call themselves Christians and believers, I, too, shall say, “I am a believer,” for otherwise what I wish to be cleared up will not be cleared up.