Piers is always going on about how he hated Stowe. As if that solves everything, as if to hate something means it can't have affected you.

He's not human; he's an empty space disguised as a human.

There is only one good definition of God: the freedom that allows other freedoms to exist.

Love is the mystery between two people, not the identity.

He knew the world and its absurdities as only an intelligent Irishman can; which is to say that where his knowledge or memory failed him, his imagination was always ready to fill the gap.

We chase the reward, we get the reward and then we discover that the true reward is always the next reward. Buying pleasure is a false end.

You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts.