...no cat out of its first fur can ever be deceived by appearances. Unlike human beings, who enjoy them.

song of elli (old age) "What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain What is gone is gone... What is sea-born dies on land, Soft is trod upon. What is given burns the hand - What is gone is gone... Here is there, and high is low; All may be undone. What is true, no two men know - What is gone is gone... Who has choices need not choose. We must, who have none. We can love but what we lose - What is gone is gone.

- and you are truly human now. You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact.

He thought, or said, or sang, I did not know that I was so empty, to be so full.

The horns came riding in like the rainbow masts of silver ships.

It’s a rare man who is taken for what he truly is.

I'll tell you something. Once I was very fond of a poem by Emily Dickinson or somebody. I only remember one line of it, but it goes, 'The soul selects her own society.' I used to tell it to everybody. Once I quoted it to a friend of mine, and he said, 'Maybe, but the body gets thrown into bed with the goddamnedest people.