“After all these weeks, after all of this, I feel that I am finally going to pieces, and I find, stunningly, that as I turn about in the street, I am praying, a habit of my childhood, when I would try to cover my bets with a God in whom I knew I did not much believe. And now, dear God, I think, dear God in whom I do not believe, I pray you to stop this, for I am deathly frightened. Dear God, I smell my fear, with an oder as distinct as ozone on the air after a lightening flash. I feel fear so palpable it has a color, an oozing fiery red, and I feel it pitifully in my bones, which ache. My pain is so extreme that I can barely move down this hot avenue, and for a moment cannot, as my backbone bows with fear, as if a smelted rod, red-hot and livid, had been laid there. Dear God, dear God, I am in agony and fear, and whatever I may have done to make you bring this down upon me, release me, please, I pray, release me. Release me. Dear God in whom I do not believe, dear God, let me go free.” GodFaithFearPrayingBelieving Not Believing In God Book:Presumed Innocent Source: Presumed Innocent