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

Love is lust made meaningful. Hope is hunger made human.

Saying 'I could have done more,' Zin, is what marks a man as a man and not a God.

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

I tell you, guilt dwells nowhere but in the eyes of the accuser. This men know even as they deny it, which is why they so often make murder their absolution. The truth of crime lies not with the victim but with the witness.

There’s faith that knows itself as faith, Proyas, and there’s faith that confuses itself for knowledge. The first embraces uncertainty, acknowledges the mysteriousness of the God. It begets compassion and tolerance. Who can entirely condemn when they’re not entirely certain they’re in the right? But the second, Proyas, the second embraces certainty and only pays lip service to the God’s mystery. It begets intolerance, hatred, violence.

Doubt begets understanding, and understanding begets compassion. Verily, it is conviction that kills.