“How Came I Hither?”

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  “I observed in the herbage a number of weather-worn stones, evidently shaped with tools. They were broken, covered with moss and half sunken in the earth. Some lay prostrate, some leaned at various angles, none was vertical. They were obviously headstones of graves, though the graves themselves no longer existed as either mounds or depressions; the years had leveled all. Scattered here and there, more massive blocks showed where some pompous tomb or ambitious monument had once flung its feeble defiance at oblivion. So old seemed these relics, these vestiges of vanity and memorials of affection and piety, so battered and worn and stained—so neglected, deserted, forgotten the place, that I could not help thinking myself the discoverer of the burial-ground of a prehistoric race of men whose very name was long extinct. Filled with these reflections, I was for some time heedless of the sequence of my own experiences, but soon I thought, “How came I hither?”” An Inhabitant of Carcosa B...

Happy Accidents

When the cowboy applied for health insurance, the agent asked his routine questions about previous accidents--had he had any? The cowboy replied, "No, sir. Last year I was bitten by a rattlesnake, and a horse kicked me in the ribs. That laid me up for a while."

The agent said, "Weren't those accidents?"

"Nope," replied the cowboy. "They did it on purpose."

The cowboy knew, perhaps, that where God is in control, there are no such thing as "accidents."

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