Dear Jesus, please get me out. Christ, please, please, please, Christ. If you only keep me from being killed I'll do anything you say. I believe in you and I'll tell everybody in the world that you are the only thing that matters. Please, please, dear Jesus' The shelling moved further up the line. We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up, and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet. The next night back at Master he did not tell the girl he went upstairs with at the Villa Rosa about Jesus. And he never told anybody.
— Ernest Hemingway
In Our Time
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