Jesus was my son. Buddha was my son. Muhammad, Moses, you, the man who said there was no room at the inn was my son.
More from Oh, God!
Put down that man—and women persons—their existence means exactly and precisely, not more, not one tiny bit less, just what they think it means, and what I think doesn't count at all.
See also: meaning of life.
If you find it hard to believe in me, maybe it would help you to know that I believe in you.
Oh, God!
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