I soon began to question if fire was really hot, if the cat would really scratch.

Presently, as we have seen, I questioned God.

And in those days my religion depended on my mood.

I could believe anything I wanted to believe.

I did believe, in all my moods, that there was a God who had made the world, in some fashion unexplained, and who knew about me and my doings; for there was the world all about me, and somebody must have made it.