“As many truths as men. Occasionally, I glimpse a truer Truth, hiding in imperfect simulacrums of itself, but as I approach, it bestirs itself & moves deeper into the thorny swamp of dissent.”

“Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides... I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming they were a fixed feature in my life's voyage, I neglected to record their latitude, their longitude, their approach. Young ruddy fool. What wouldn't I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds.”

“It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.”

“- This isn't an interrogation or a trail. Your version of the truth is the only thing that matters.-Truth is singular. It's 'versions' are mistruths.”

“Humor is the ovum of dissent, and the Juche should fear it.”

“One fine day a predatory world shall consume itself.”

“This world, he thinks, contains just one masterpiece, and that is itself.”