“Did you hear that crazy man? we said.--Education is your mother? we said.We laughed and did imitations. We thought Mr. Kondit, like more than a few of the men and boys who had crossed the desert to get to Ethiopia, had lost his mind along the way.”

“I thought we had lost you. I thought we'd done something worse than let you die.' His old arms were tight and strong about me. I was kind to the old man. I did not tell him they had.”

“We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.”

“In those days a boy on the classical side officially did almost nothing but classics. I think this was wise; the greatest service we can to education today is to teach few subjects. No one has time to do more than a very few things well before he is twenty, and when we force a boy to be a mediocrity in a dozen subjects we destroy his standards, perhaps for life.”

“Does this darkness have a name? This cruelty this hatred. How did it find us, did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and embrace it? What happened to us that we now send our children into the world like we send young men to war, hoping for their safe return but knowing some will be lost along the way. When did we lose our way? Consumed by the shadows swallowed whole by the darkness. Does this darkness have a name...is it your name?”

“Once, over dinner, Henry was quite startled to learn from me than men had walked on the moon. “No,” he said, putting down his fork. “It’s true,” chorused the rest, who had somehow managed to pick this up along the way. “I don’t believe it.” “I saw it,” said Bunny. “It was on television.” “How did they get there? When did this happen?"”