And I will look down and see my murmuring bones and the deep water like wind, like a roof of wind, and after a long time they cannot distinguish even bones upon the lonely and inviolate sand.

They say love dies between two people. That’s wrong. It doesn’t die. It just leaves you, goes away, if you aren’t good enough, worthy enough. It doesn’t die; you’re the the one that dies. It’s like the ocean: if you’re no good, if you begin to make a bad smell in it, it just spews you up somewhere to die. You die anyway, but I had rather drown in the ocean than be urped up onto a strip of dead beach and be dried away by the sun into a little foul smear with no name to it, just this was for an epitaph

We shall not kill and maybe next time we even won't.

Wonder. Go on and wonder.

And even a liar can be scared into telling the truth, same as honest man can be tortured into telling a lie.

If you could just ravel out into time. That would be nice. It would be nice if you could just ravel out into time

A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you'd think misfortune would get tired but then time is your misfortune