Revenge is the concern of those who are at some point or other beaten. I am not beaten, I told myself. No, not beaten. And victory is far more interesting to contemplate than revenge.

I was obsessed with religious questions, the basics: Why are we here? Why is the world so beautiful?

He had never expected death to be this quiet, this secretive, this easy.

Perhaps I fear him because I could love him again, and in loving him, I would come to need him, and in needing him, I would again be his faithful pupil in all things, only to discover that his patience for me is no substitute for the passion which long ago blazed in his eyes.

What if I could give you your life back; pluck out the pain; and give you a world of unimaginable beauty that would be for all time.

Truth is a risky proposition. It's the nature of mediocre human beings to believe that lies are necessary, that they serve a purpose, that truth is subversive, that candor is dangerous, that the very scaffold of communal life is supported by lies.

The highest truths a person could discover were rooted in the natural world.