For every prophet there are a thousand interpreters to distort the essence of the religion, to replace the bright flame with the heat of the inquisitors' pyres.

Generally speaking, we can and should say everything. We just have to choose the right time, otherwise the truth can be worse than a lie.

Ill-considered but well-intentioned actions do more good that actions that are well-considered but cruel.

Fairy tales lie just as much as statistics do, but sometimes you can find a grain of truth in them.

This was how you wound up in the Inquisition. When you stopped being able to see any difference between Light Ones and Dark Ones. When for you, people weren't even a flock of sheep, but just a handful of spiders in a glass jar. When you stopped believing in the future, and all you wanted to do was preserve the status quo. For yourself. For those few individuals who were still dear to you.

And the simple people are trash. A herd of sheep that are good for shearing, but sometimes it's more profitable to slaughter them.

Love was something different. Love was pure delight, a fountain of emotions, sensual delights, and enjoying spending time together.