He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. As in a party game. Say the words and pass it on. So be sparing. What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not.

Deep in each man is the knowledge that something knows of his existence. Something knows, and cannot be fled nor hid from.

The passing of armies and the passing of sands in the desert are one.

Men of God and men of war have strange affinities.

This place aint the same. It never will be. Maybe we've all got a little crazy. I guess if everbody went crazy together nobody would notice, what do you think?

He had divested himself of the little cloaked godlet and his other amulets in a place where they would not be found in his lifetime and he'd taken for talisman the simple human heart within him.

Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.