“We live in secret citiesAnd we travel unmapped roads.We speak words between us that we recognizeBut which cannot be looked up.They are our words.They come from very far inside our mouths.You and I, we are the secret citizens of the cityInside us, and inside usThere go all the cars we have drivenAnd seen, there are all the peopleWe know and have known, thereAre all the places that areBut which used to be as well. This is whereThey went. They did not disappear.We each take a piece Through the eye and through the ear.It's loud inside us, in there, and when we speakIn the outside worldWe have to hope that some of that soundDoes not come out, that an armNot reach outIn place of the tongue.”

“Inside us all are pieces of that which makes the negative. We have many facets. It is that inner essence we all have that guides us through our lives. Sometimes those voices that drive us are whispered memories that live deep inside and cause us such pain that we have no choice except to let it out and to hurt those around us. But at other times, the voice is love and compassion, and it guides us to a gentler place. In the end, we, alone, must choose what path to walk. No one can help us with it. (Menyara)”

“Inside us all are pieces of that which makes the neagitve. Demons are neither good nor bad. Like you, they have many facets. It is that inner essence, or drive, if you will, that we all have that guides us through our lives. Sometimes those voices that drive us are whispered memories that live deep inside and cause us such pain that we have no choice except to let it out and to hurt those around us. But at other times, the voice is love and compassion, and it guides us to a gentler place. In the end, we, alone, must choose what path to walk. No one can help us with it. (Menyara)”

“What really matters is that we should all of us realize that we are guilty of inhumanity. The horror of this realization should shakes us out of our lethargy so that we can direct our hopes and our intentions to the coming of an era in which war will have no place.”

“This vast life - the real, interior one in which we remain linked to the dead (because the dream inside us ignores trivialities like breath, or absence) - this vast life is not under our control. Everything we have seen and everyone we have known goes into us and constitutes us, whether we like it or not. We are linked together in a pattern we cannot see and whose effects we cannot know.”

“It may be that I might have inferred from the pages that life teaches us to diminish the value of what we read, and shows us that the things which the writer commends to us were never worth very much; yet I might equally well have come to the opposite conclusion, that reading teaches us to place a higher value on life, a value which we did not know how to appreciate, and the true extent of which we come to realize only through the book.”