Illness reduces man to his basic state: a cloaca in which the chemical processes continue. The meaningless hegemony of the involuntary.

She was saved from prettiness by the intensity of her gaze.

Security is a false God. Begin to make sacrifices to it and you are lost.

Because neither she nor Port had ever lived a life of any kind of regularity, they had both made the fatal error of coming hazily to regard time as non-existent. One year was like another year. Eventually everything would happen.

How fragile we are under the sheltering sky. Behind the sheltering sky is a vast dark universe, and we're just so small.

If people and their manner of living were alike everywhere, there would not be much point in moving from one place to another.

Not all the ravages caused by our merciless age are tangible ones. The subtler forms of destruction, those involving only the human spirit, are the most to be dreaded.