Too much trust is folly, in an imperfect world.

Youth is no less vulnerable, by the very quality it has of making the heart ache that beholds and has lost it.

What are wits for unless a man uses them?

There is no one who cannot be hated, against whatever odds. Nor anyone who cannot be loved, against all reason.

Brother Cadfael knew better than to be in a hurry, where souls were concerned. There was plenty of elbow-room in eternity.

Life goes not in a straight line, lad, but in a circle. The first half we spend venturing as far as the world's end from home and kin and stillness, and the latter half brings us back, by roundabout ways but surely, to that state from which we set out.

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