How real is any of the past, being every moment revalued to make the present possible.

...mementos of this world, in which the things worth being were so easily exchanged for the things worth having.

Justice? You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law.

It is the bliss of childhood that we are being warped most when we know it the least.

That was Youth with its reckless exuberance when all things were possible pursued by Age where we are now, looking back at what we destroyed, what we tore away from that self who could do more, and its work that's become my enemy because that's what I can tell you about, that Youth who could do anything.

He was doing missionary work. But from the outset he had little success in convincing his charges of their responsibility for a sin committed at the beginning of creation, one which, as they understood it, they were ready and capable (indeed, they carried charms to assure it) of duplicating themselves. He did no better convincing them that a man had died on a tree to save them all: an act which one old Indian, if Gwyon had translated correctly, regarded as "rank presumption".

He walked out into the cold morning asking himself this heretical question: Can you start measuring a minute at any instant you wish?