It may be -- I hope it is -- redemption to guess and perhaps perceive that the universe, the hell which we see for all its beauty, vastness, majesty, is only part of a whole which is quite unimaginable.

The mask was a thing on it's own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-conciousness.

He lost himself in a maze of thoughts that were rendered vague by his lack of words to express them. Frowning, he tried again.

The greatest ideas are the simplest.

There's a kinship among men who have sat by a dying fire and measured the worth of their life by it.

I suppose I'd have to say that my favourite author is Homer. After Homer's Ilaid, I'd name The Odyssey, and then I'd mention a number of plays of Euripides.

Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.