Now, a friend of mine wrote me this letter. He says, “I came back from a vast, vast section of space and time, and for one short interval I encountered a fish, and the fish was standing erect on its tail. In what you would call a hand, its flipper, its right flipper or the right fin, it held a fishing rod, and it looked at me so intently. It conveyed the thought to me, ‘I never lose a man that I go after…I catch everyone that I see.’ Then I had a flash that it was all past history, as though through the ages he had been fishing for me and I had been [...] the hound of heaven. I had been running, running, running away, but he was infinitely patient, and he the great fish would one day catch him.”506 ¶25