There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road thereto.

I guess you ought to be careful about cussin the dead. I would say at the least there probably ain't no luck in it.

The societies to which I have been exposed seemed to me largely machines for the suppression of women.

Maybe it's like Mac says. Ever man winds up with the horse that suits him.

I can normally tell how intelligent a man is by how stupid he thinks I am.

Every moment in your life is a turning and every one a choosing. Somewhere you made a choice. All followed to this. The accounting is scrupulous. The shape is drawn. No line can be erased. I had no belief in your ability to move a coin to your bidding. How could you? A person's path through the world seldom changes and even more seldom will it change abruptly. And the shape of your path was visible from the beginning.

He imagined the pain of the world to be like some formless parasitic being seeking out the warmth of human souls wherein to incubate and he thought he knew what made one liable to its visitations. What he had not known was that it was mindless and so had no way to know the limits of those souls and what he feared was that there might be no limits.