"Is that all you got to say?" Buck said, and I could hear him getting up from his chair. "You're sure that's all you got to say?"
I hesitated, thinkin' I should be able to come up with somethin'. Because it was all so clear to me, Christ knew it was clear: love one another and don't screw no one unless they're bending over, and forgive us our trespasses because we may be a minority of one. For God's sake, for God's sake-why else had I been put here in Potts County, and why else did I stay here? Why else, who else, what else but Christ Almighty would put up with it?
But I couldn't make him see that. He was as blind as the rest of 'em.
"Well, Nick? I ain't waiting much longer."
"And you don't have to, Buck," I said. "You don't have to because I finally come to a decision. I've been a long time comin' to it; it's been the product of thinkin' and thinkin' and thinkin', and then some more thinkin'. And dependin' on how you look at it, it's the god-dangest whingdingest decision ever made, or it's the skitty-assed worst. Because it explains everything that goes on in the world-it answers everything and it answers nothing.
"So here it is, Buck, here's my decision. I thought and I thought and then I thought some more, and finally I came to a decision. I decided I don't no more know what to do than if I was just another lousy human being!"