Just take me with you. Please. I cant. Please, Papa. I cant. I cant hold my son dead in my arms. I thought I could but I cant.

Dying ain't in people's plans, is it?

It is supposed to 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 love of blood.

The closest bonds we will ever know are bonds of grief. The deepest community one of sorrow.

There is no forgiveness. For women. A man may lose his honor and regain it again. But a woman cannot. She cannot.

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

Because the question for me was always whether that shape we see in our lives was there from the beginning or whether these random events are only called a pattern after the fact. Because otherwise we are nothing.