William Stewart Ross,
God and His Book
(1887)
“ Had not the last blossom that fell from the apple tree, has not every snow-drop that holds out its white cup to catch the dew, has not every flake of thistle-down which the wind blows over the field, as much to do with the redemption of man as had the life and death of that poor peasant of Palestine? Answer me, O God; and you can answer me only one way, unless you be as priest-cursed and credulous as the bipeds down here who are half-blind to the glory of thy creation, living as they do in a fantastic and horror-haunted creation of their own brain. ”

