Each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins.

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.

I don't think goodness is something that you learn. If you're left adrift in the world to learn goodness from it, you would be in trouble.

It was always himself that the coward abandoned first. After this all other betrayals came easily.

They lay listening. Can you do it? When the time comes? When the time comes there will be no time. Now is the time. Curse God and die. What if it doesn't fire? It has to fire. What if it doesn't fire? Could you crush that beloved skull with a rock? Is there such a being within you of which you know nothing? Can there be? Hold him in your arms. Just so. The soul is quick. Pull him toward you. Kiss him. Quickly.

He rocked in the swells, floating like the first germ of life adrift on the earth's cooling seas, formless macule of plasm trapped in a vapor drop and all creation yet to come.

Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all.