For several long moments we remained locked together, and I think I covered her hair with small sacred kisses, her perfume crucifying me with memories.

I think that we are supernatural. We are unique. We're the only animals in the universe that we know of that actually have self-consciousness, a sense of time and our own mortality.

It was over now, and the meaningless world was tolerable and need not be explained. And never would it be, and how foolish I had ever been to think so.

The atheism and nihilism of my earlier years now seems shallow, and even a bit cocky.

As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us.

Do we have to confess our loves to everyone?" asked Thorne softly. "Can we not keep some secrets?

I am afraid of death. I believe nothing, and therefore like many who believe nothing I must make something, and that something is the meaning which I give my life.