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Don't Throw the Believer Out with the Baptistry Water: The Best of The Point Is... Volume 1

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James Collins

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“As we walked homeward across the fields, the sun dropped and lay like a great golden globe in the low west. While it hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cart-wheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost-moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there.”

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“If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable.' 'Because you are not fit to go there,' I answered. 'All sinners would be miserable in heaven.' 'But it is not for that. I dreamt once that I was there.' 'I tell you I won't hearken to your dreams, Miss Catherine! I'll go to bed,' I interrupted again. She laughed, and held me down; for I made a motion to leave my chair. 'This is nothing,' cried she: 'I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.”

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