“Witness is the seeing that testifies, that judges so that it may be judged. You saw, and you judged. A trespass had been committed, an innocent had been murdered. You saw this.” “Yes!” the man hissed. “A little girl. A little girl!” “And now you suffer.” “But why?” he cried. “Why should I suffer? She’s not mine. She was heathen!” “Everywhere … Everywhere we’re surrounded by the blessed and the cursed, the sacred and the profane. But our hearts are like hands, they grow callous to the world. And yet, like our hands even the most callous heart will blister if overworked or chafed by something
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