"You did. And I care so awfully for both of them that I won't believe things about God that aren't true."
"And how do you know what's true and what isn't? You set up your little judgment against all the wise and learned people who believe as you were taught to believe. I wonder how you dare."
"It's the risk we're all taking. We may every single one of us be wrong. Still, if some things are true other things can't be. Don't look so unhappy, Mamma."
"How can I be anything else? When I think of you living without God in the world, and of what will happen to you when you die."
"It's your belief that makes you unhappy, not me."
"That's the cruellest thing you've said yet."
"You know I'd rather die than hurt you."
"Die, indeed! When you hurt me every minute of the day. If it had been anything but unbelief. If I even saw you humble and sorry about it. But you seem to be positively enjoying yourself."
"I can't help it if the things I think of make me happy. And you don't know how nice it feels to be free."
"Precious freedom!—to do what you like and think what you like, without caring."