As long as it is the Jesus of love and trust, it is the right Jesus.
It often happened that during the prisoner's composition and writing, a wider, softer light from the window spread through the cell, flickered over the wall, the floor, the table, and then rested for a space on the white paper.

And so light even entered the lonely room, but unspeakably more light entered the writer's heart.
The gaoler saw little of the writing.

Directly he rattled his keys, it was hidden under the sheet--just as children hide their treasures from intrusive eyes.

When five or six weeks had gone by, hundreds of written sheets lay there.
Konrad placed them in a cover and wrote on it I.N.R.I..