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

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

Time passed so much more slowly than space.

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

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.

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

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