I assure you, Constable Morgan, I am quite sane, as I understand the word, perhaps the sanest person in this room, for I suffer from no illusions. I have freed myself, you see, from the pretense that burdens most men. Much like our prey, I do not impose order where there is none; I do not pretend there is any more than what there is, or that you and I are anything more than what we are. That is the essence of their beauty, Morgan, the aboriginal purity of their being, and why I admire them.

It isn't up to me to break his heart; that's time's job.

There's an old saying about truth setting you free. Don't buy it. Sometimes the truth slams the cell door shut and throws a thousand bolts.

But hope is no less realistic than despair. It is still our choice whether to live in light or lie down in darkness.

How oft do they rescue or ruin us, through whimsy or design or a combination of both, the adults to whom we entrust our care!

I don't move. I wait behind my log, terrified. Over the past ten minutes, it's become such a dear friend, I consider naming it: Howard, my pet log.

We’re here, and then we’re gone, and it’s not about the time we’re here, but what we do with the time.