We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death.

That day, I began to be incredulous. Or, rather, I regretted having been credulous. I regretted having allowed myself to be borne away by a passion of the mind. Such is credulity.

I am a professor who writes novels on Sundays

Love is wiser than wisdom.

It was awkward, revisiting a world you have never seen before: like coming home, after a long journey, to someone else’s house.

Followers of the occult believe in only what they already know, and in those things that confirm what they have already learned.

The step between ecstatic vision and sinful frenzy is all too brief.