There is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter.

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.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

Show me the man who isn't interested in discussing himself.

A day, a livelong day, is not one thing but many. It changes not only in growing light toward zenith and decline again, but in texture and mood, in tone and meaning, warped by a thousand factors of season, of heat or cold, of still or multi winds, torqued by odors, tastes, and the fabrics of ice or grass, of bud or leaf or black-drawn naked limbs. And as a day changes so do its subjects, bugs and birds, cates, dogs, butterflies and people.

You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous.

The comfortable people in tight houses felt pity at first, and then distaste, and finally hatred for the migrant people.