“Before long four dozen balls lay scattered at the base of the fence, a harvest of dirty white fruit.”
“Four are the tributaries of the great river. Four are the harvests from floodseason to dust. Four are the great treasures: timbalin, myrrh, lapis, and jungissa. Four bands of color mark the face of the Dreaming Moon. Red for blood. White for seed. Yellow for ichor. Black for bile.”
“Before the fruits of prosperity can come, the storms of life need to first bring the required rains of testing, which mixes with the seeds of wisdom to produce a mature harvest.”
“The secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is - to live dangerously.”
“I swear before God... and four more white people! This is the last time!”
“Dare to imagine. Dare to be. Books are the seeds. Dreams are the soil. The fruit of the harvest, a world reborn.”