The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness.

For fun? Maybe evil is an art form.

It’s the place of the story, beginning here, in the meadow of late summer flowers, thriving before the Atlantic storms drive wet and winter upon them all.

If you have an ancestor who is a Benedictine monk, we would rather not know it.

Speaking uses us up, speeds us up. Without prayer, that act of confession for merely existing, one might live forever and not know it.

I don't like work like that. I am the silent partner. I work through events, I live on the sidelines, I dabble in causes and effects, I watch how the misbegotten creatures of this world live their lives.

Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.