The adversary she found herself forced to fight was not worth matching or beating; it was not a superior ability which she would have found honour in challenging; it was ineptitude - a grey spread of cotton that seemed soft and shapeless, that could offer no resistance to anything or anybody, yet managed to be a barrier in her way. She stood, disarmed, before the riddle of what made this possible, she could find no answer.

Everyone has the right to make his own decisions, but none has the right to force his decision on others.

But why should you care what people will say? All you have to do is please yourself.

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness--and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark.

God... a being whose only definition is that he is beyond man's power to conceive.

She knew that she could not have reached this white serenity except as the sum of all the colors, of all the violence she had known.

It is my eyes which see, and the sight of my eyes grants beauty to the earth.