Hey, Norseman: The woman across the street from me has inoperable cancer. She'll die soon. Nothing theoretical about it.
She's religious and it seems to comfort her. But in that hour when doubt enters her mind, and fear with it, she may well ask for reassurance. I hope she doesn't ask me, but if she does, I'll lie like a trouper, and I hope you'll issue me a ticket to hell for it. See you there.