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I finished it for the 2nd time a few weeks ago, and this passage hit me this time through...
Had Almighty God, in all his infinite wisdom, really been afraid that men six thousand years ago would really succeed in building a tower to heaven? Where the devil was heaven? Was it up? Down? There was no up or down in a finite but expanding universe in which even the vast, burning, dazzling, majestic sun was in a state of progressive decay that would eventually destroy the earth too. There were no miracles; prayers went unanswered, and misfortune tramped with equal brutality on the virtuous and corrupt; and the chaplain, who had conscience and character, would have yielded to reason and relinquished his belief in the God of his fathers - would truly have resigned both his calling and his commission and taken his chances as a private in the infantry or field artillary, or even, perhaps, as a corporal in the paratroopers - had it not been for such successive mystic phenomena as the naked man in the tree at that poor sergeant's funeral weeks before and the cryptic, haunting, encouraging promise of the prophet Flume in the forest only that afternoon: Tell them I'll be back when winter comes.
-------------------- Remember, it's only true if it makes you laugh...
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