it was a sly trick of God's to give a man work to do - it kept him from asking questions that God couldn't answer.

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.

But one had to go back to the beginning of things, always. Trace the thread of life - find the knot - untangle it.

A false vision was better than none.

A sickness ... defines margins, crystallizes the shape of things.