I began to see that my problems, seen spiritually, were really my soul's plusses.

This Christian poison hasn't stopped yet.

Because of my Marxism, I was not into myths or miracles, whether it was the virgin birth, the physical resurrection or casting out demons from an epileptic.

During the Second World War, evacuated to non-Jewish households, I encountered Christianity at home and in school.

My mother enjoyed old age, and because of her I've begun to enjoy parts of it too. So far I've had it good and am crumbling nicely.

I learnt pity, sympathy, and what it was like to be at the other end of the stick. Such lessons can't be learnt in lecture halls.

It's more fun to watch without joining in.