Here and there on the branch of an oak a congress of leaves still clung, rigid as flakes of bronze.

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.

There's precious little comes of telling people what they don't want to hear.

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

Time passed so much more slowly than space.

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!

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