“Show me a quest for personal immortality and I'll show you a path through a slaughterhouse, and the incense of personal divinity is the stench of other people's corpses.”

“Immortality is only for the gods," he whispered. "I wonder how they can stand it.”

“Ox, at an early age a Chinese genius gazes at the path that lies ahead and reaches for a wine jar," Master Li said. "Is it any wonder that our greatest men have lurched rather than walked across the landscape as they hiccuped their way into history?”

“Blessed are the idiots, for they are happiest people on earth.”

“O great and mighty Master Li, pray impart to me the Secret of Wisdom!" he bawled."Take a large bowl," I said. "Fill it with equal measures of fact, fantasy, history, mythology, science, superstition, logic, and lunacy. Darken the mixture with bitter tears, brighten it with howls of laughter, toss in three thousand years of civilization, bellow kan pei — which means 'dry cup' — and drink to the dregs."Procopius stared at me. "And I will be wise?" he asked."Better," I said. "You will be Chinese.”

“I have never been able to understand why perfectly sensible people waste time being wittily obscure instead of just saying what they want and going on about their business.”

“The mind is a miser," he said. "Nothing is ever thrown away, and it's amazing what you can find if you dig deep enough.”