“each man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behindmy ruined face.”

“Here, her hand in mine was the one reality that severed us from the cold click-clack of Hell. I rubbed her hand and she sighed; wasn’t that meaning? Wasn’t that something we could cling to? I could be with this other. I could form no other relation, but maybe her hand in mine was enough, both sufficient and necessary. In Hell there was no sense of place, because all places were the same. Uniform monotony. A place without place. A place without context. But, here, now, I could rub her hand and she would sigh. She was a difference. Perhaps each person was the only difference in all these halls of unchanging ranks of books, kiosks, clocks, and carpet, and that, and that, at least, we had to hold to.”

“all the gods are the same unknowable mystery, just as each face of a jewel strikes light in a different direction”

“There must be a Hell. A place for demons. A place for the damned. Hell is Heaven's reflection. Heaven's shadow. They define each other. There must be a Hell for without Hell, Heaven has no meaning.--Remiel”

“Adventure is just a romantic name for trouble. It sounds swell when you write about it, but it's hell when you meet it face to face in a dark and lonely place.”

“That's the difference between heaven and hell! In hell we starve! In heaven we feed each other!”