Finally he said that among men there was no such communion as among horses and the notion that men can be understood at all was probably an illusion.

Hell ain't half full.

You always pay too much. Particularly for promises. There aint no such thing as a bargain promise.

He lay listening to the water drip in the woods. Bedrock, this. The cold and the silence. The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. Carried forth and scattered and carried forth again. Everything uncoupled from its shoring. Unsupported in the ashen air. Sustained by a breath, trembling and brief. If only my heart were stone.

Any time you're throwin dirt you're losin ground.

All human love is a faint type of God's; An echoing note from a harmonious whole; A feeble spark from an undying flame; A single drop from an unfathomed sea: But God's is infinite; it fills the earth And heaven, and the broad, trackless realms of space.

Fear of an enemy can often blind men to other hazards, not least the shape which they themselves make in the world.