I Think I Did Have

What Use, After All, Is Man, If Not To Teach God His Lessons?

Worship Isn't Destructive, Martin. I Know That. I Don't. I Only Know It's The Core Of His Life. What Else Has He Got? He Can Hardly Read. He Knows No Physics Or Engineering To Make To World Real For Him. No Paintings To Show Him How Others Have Enjoyed It. No Music Except Television Jingles. No History Except Tales From A Desperate Mother. No Friends. Not One Kid To Give Him A Joke, Or Make Him Know Himself More Moderately. He's A Modern Citizen For Whom Society Doesn't Exist.

You Have Your Words, And I Have Mine.

You Can't Always Let People Do Their Own Thing.

All Reined Up In Old Language And Old Assumptions, Straining To Jump Clean-hoofed On To A Whole New Track Of Being I Only Suspect Is There. I Can't See It, Because My Educated, Average Head Is Being Held At The Wrong Angle. I Can't Jump Because The Bit Forbids It, And My Own Basic Force - My Horsepower, If You Like - Is Too Little.