God is silent. Now if only man would shut up.
How can I believe in God when just last week I got my tongue caught in the roller of an electric typewriter?
If you take a frown and turn it upside down, the person you are holding by the ankles will soon pass out.
Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday.
If God is everywhere, I had concluded, then He is in food. Therefore, the more I ate the godlier I would become. Impelled by this new religious fervor, I glutted myself like a fanatic.
Then Job fell to his knees and cried to the Lord, "Thine is the kingdom and the power and glory. Thou hast a good job. Don't blow it."
Skeptic that I was as an adolescent, I had recently come to believe in a Supreme Being after thumbing through a Victoria's Secret catalogue.
Even if God exists, he's done such a terrible job, it's a wonder people don't get together and file a class action suit against him.
My Lord, my Lord! What hath Thou done lately?
I had an IQ test. The results came back negative.
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