You are not a man anymore. You are a soldier. Your comfort is of no importance and your life isn't of much importance. Most of your orders will be unpleasant, but that's not your business. They should've trained you for this, and not for flower-strewn streets. They should have built your soul with truth, not led along with lies.

We don't take a trip. A trip takes us.

If we could learn even a little to like ourselves, maybe our cruelties and angers might melt away.

And then we take a soldier and put murder in his hands and we say to him, "Use it well, use it wisely.

Man himself has become our greatest hazard and our only hope. So that today, St. John the apostle may well be paraphrased: In the end is the Word, and the Word is Man - and the Word is with Men.

But think of the glory of the choice! That makes a man a man. A cat has no choice, a bee must make honey. There's no godliness there.

Kino heard the little splash of morning waves on the beach. It was very good -- Kino closed his eyes again to listen to his music.