Of the making of books there is no end, and the reading of them only wearies the body.

However many stories there are in this world, everyone of them are only variations of a single story. Good versus bad, trouble versus pleasure, hatred versus love, life versus death, sadness versus joy, and so on.

Isn’t it amazing that the beginning of all creation has turned out to be such a vast variety but the story within it is all the same thing?

It’s called the Gospel folks.