It must have been hard converting your elders in the Pentagon to this view." "Ever try stuffing a melted marshmallow up a wildcat's ass? It can be do… - James Morrow

What really got under Londa’s skin, I soon learned, was not the Messiah’s sermon per se but the discontinuity between its sublime directives and the ignominious course of Western history, a spectacle that, the more we thought about it, increasingly struck Londa and me as largely a fancy-dress danse macabre, Titus Andronicus on a hemispheric and ultimately global scale, though I hastened to point out that the chronicles of other civilizations were likewise awash in blood. What had gone wrong? She wanted to know. When and why had the teachings of Jesus Christ become an optional component of Christianity?

People are always asking, does God exist? Of course she does. The real question: what is she like?

Right before bed, I spend twenty minutes in this place. Then I can sleep."
"You mean you simply sit here, staring at everybody's pain? All you do is look at it?"
"Uh-huh. Just like God.