If I said I’d never thought, ‘You nincompoop!’ of someone, or even, once or twice, actually muttered it in anger—well, I’d be a liar. If I claimed my eye had never once wandered, that, too, would be a falsehood. If I denied I am an adulterer because it’s not me but my husband who’s divorced, I’d be playing the sort of legalistic game which Jesus doesn’t seem to think much of. And if I claimed my every ‘yes’ was a wholehearted promise, then let me say now: I’ve been known to prevaricate from time to time ...
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