There's simply too much fuss about myself.

I'm one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Carry on, then, if only for the moment that it takes a tiny galaxy to blink!

After every war someone has to tidy up.

Animals don't even try to look any different from what nature intended. They humbly wear their shells, scales, spines, plumes, pelts, and down. ... The conscious impulse to change one's appearance is found only among humans.

Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.