Life Is, Of Course, Terrible.

A Character, To Be Acceptable As More Than A Chess Piece, Has To Be Ignorant Of The Future, Unsure About The Past, And Not At All Sure Of What He's Supposed To Be Doing.

And I Sort Of Frowned About That, Thinking. 'you Felt Ill This Afternoon,' He Said, 'because You're Getting Better. When We're Healthy We Respond To The Presence Of The Hateful With Fear And Nausea. You're Becoming Healthy, That's All.

What's It Going To Be Then, Eh?

How Wicked, My Brothers, Innocent Milk Must Always Seem To Me Now.

Immortality Makes Sense Only When The Individual Soul Can Be Thought Of As Merging Into A Great Collective Mush Of Sainthood. If We Take Anything With Us Into The Next World, It Is Not What Survives In The Memories Of Our Relicts.