imaginary things were often the only items of real substance in people's lives.

All the world does as it is supposed to, except for humans. Maybe that's why you so often want to kill each other.

The sudden and abrupt removal of my all-consuming goal ... well, it was like I was a donut, and somebody had sucked all the jelly out of me. But I could stuff new jelly in there. It would just get my hands a little sticky in the process.

I like words. And I always learn a few new ones when Father gets angry. I shouldn't neglect my education, now should I?

Does one deserve to have evil done to her by consequence of putting herself where evil can reach her?

At times, it seems to me that to be human is to want that which we cannot have. For some, this is power. For me, it is peace.

So, using his pride like a shield against despair, dejection, and-most important— self-pity, Raoden raised his head to stare damnation in the eyes.