He'd half meant to speak but those eyes had altered the world forever in the space of a heartbeat.

Notions of chance and fate are the preoccupations of men engaged in rash undertakings.

He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought that the world’s heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world’s pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower.

When one has nothing left make ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them.

Hell ain't half full.

In history there are no control groups. There is no one to tell us what might have been. We weep over the might have been, but there is no might have been. There never was. It is supposed to be true that those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it. I don't believe knowing can save us. What is constant in history is greed and foolishness and a love of blood and this is a thing that even God--who knows all that can be known--seems powerless to change.

Ever step you take is forever. You cant make it go away. None of it. You understand what I'm sayin?