I put the words down and push them a bit.

Free as air; that's what they say- "free as air". Now they bring me my air in an iron barrel.

I think there's almost nothing I can't excuse except perhaps worshiping graven images. That seems to be idiotic.

Here I am,' I thought, 'back from the jungle, back from the ruins. Here, where wealth is no longer gorgeous and power has no dignity.

Limbo is the place. In Limbo one has natural happiness without the beatific vision; no harps; no communal order; but wine and conversation and imperfect, various humanity. Limbo for the unbaptized, for the pious heathen, the sincere sceptic.

One forgets words as one forgets names. One's vocabulary needs constant fertilizing or it will die.

Once you start changing a name, you see, there's no reason ever to stop. One always hears one that sounds better.