It is rare for people to be asked the question which puts them squarely in front of themselves

Where choice begins, Paradise ends, innocence ends, for what is Paradise but the absence of any need to choose this action?

Poor brain! How helplessly it dissolves when willing eyes meet and the nose warms to those old jungle scents.

The brain heals the past like an injury.

An idol tells people exactly what to believe, God presents them with choices they have to make for themselves. The difference is far from insignificant; before the idol men remain dependent children, before God they are burdened and at the same time liberated to participate in the decisions of endless creation.

The task of the real intellectual consists of analyzing illusions in order to discover their causes.

Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!