If ever you do go back, what is it you want of Evesham?" "Do I know? [...] The silence, it might be ... or the stillness. To have no more running to do ... to have arrived, and have no more need to run. The appetite changes. Now I think it would be a beautiful thing to be still.

It takes a lot to wound a man without illusions.

Despair is deadly sin, but worse, it is mortal folly.

Truth, like the burgeoning of a bulb under the soil, however deeply sown, will make its way to the light.

Too much trust is folly, in an imperfect world.

What are wits for unless a man uses them?

A man must be prepared to face life, as well as death, there's no escape from either.