There was such a difference, he thought, between the beauty that illuminated, and the beauty that was illuminated.

The thoughts of all men arise from the darkness. If you are the movement of your soul, and the cause of that movement precedes you, then how could you ever call your thoughts your own? How could you be anything other than a slave to the darkness that comes before?

Complexity begets ambiguity, which yields in all ways to prejudice and avarice. Complication does not so much defeat Men as arm them with fancy.

Here we find further argument for Gotagga’s supposition that the world is round. How else could all men stand higher than their brothers?

There was such a difference, he thought, between the beauty that illuminated, and the beauty that was illuminated.

Sometimes the Nonman would climb upon some wild pulpit, the mossed remains of a fallen tree, the humped back of a boulder, and paint wonders with his dark voice. Wonders and horrors both.

The world has long ceased to be the author of your anguish.