Religion is passionate, reckless, destructive, idol-smashing. It's a martyr burning at the stake. It's a crown of thorns and a cross.

Listen - man is a child of Nature. When he turns against his mother - he's done! He may not find out about it right away, but he will.

God, what pathetic creatures had inherited the earth, to walk a little while with their eyes upon the stars and turn their gaze too soon upon the ground that held their feet!

The snow again. White, white net of beauty, net of dream, trapping the earth, trapping the helpless heart of life.

Time, designing slowly, swiftly; Time, destroying slowly, swiftly; Time holding, possessing the earth in its tender indifference.

By mid-morning a rain as fine as silk spills was weaving over the lake.

The past ... is a dim avenue down which we may walk and find the diverging paths of terror and beauty and passion.