Pain redeems all. It is the awareness of life, a reminder of death.
Stupid to speak of blame when the wills of the immortals are involved.
Soon never comes soon enough to a young child.
It's the same questions we ask of our existence, and the answer is always the same. The mystery lies not in the question nor the answer, but in the asking and answering themselves, over and over again, and the end is engendered in the beginning.
A nervous silence loosens tongues
It is a comfort, in anguish, to be reminded of the scale of one's own troubles against the mighty breadth of the world.