I believe in doubt.
Doubt is the basis of all knowledge
and the engine of all change.
Doubt is, to make doubtly sure, the prerequisite of faith.
He who believes without first doubting
is an exculting blockhead and a tinkling cymbal.
And he who believes without at the same time doubting
is hardly less of an exculting blockhead
and hardly less of a tinkling cymbal.
Faith can remove mountains
but doubt can put them back in place again.
I also believe in doubt hereafter,
doubt that constantly rectifies
constantly asks questions
and provides answers to the questions
for ever and ever.
Doubt never fails.
But whether there be prophecies, they shall vanish away,
whether there be tounges, they shall cease,
whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
For we know in part
If I spoke with the tongues of men and of angels
but had no doubt
I would be but a sounding brass
and a tinkling cymbal
Doubt suffers long, and is kind.
Doubt does not envy, doubt does not vaunt itself,
is not puffed up.
Does not behave itself unseemly,
seeks not her own, is not easily provoked,
thinks no evil.
Rejoices not in iniquity,
but rejoices in the truth.
Bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
And now abides,
faith hope, doubt, these three;
but the greatest of these is doubt.
Or maybe it was love.
Now I am uncertain again. Darn blasted.
Verily I say unto you?