“THERE IS A LOVELY LITTLE horror story about the peasant who started through the haunted wood—the wood that was, people said, inhabited by devils who took any mortal who came their way. But the peasant thought, as he walked slowly along:I am a good man and have done no wrong. If devils can harm me, then there isn't any justice.A voice behind him said, “There isn't.”

“He said cruelty was the devil's own trade-mark, and if we saw any one who took pleasure in cruelty we might know who he belonged to, for the devil was a murderer from the beginning, and a tormentor to the end. On the other hand, where we saw people who loved their neighbors, and were kind to man and beast, we might know that was God's mark.”

“Gerry breathed loudly and slowly. “Dylan,” he said accusingly, “that was a sad story.”“Not it’s not. It’s a happy story. It’s about a mom who loved her baby very much.”“But she’s gone,” Gerry said in a very little voice.“That doesn’t mean she loves you any less,” Dylan said.”

“Although the scythe isn't pre-eminent among the weapons of war, anyone who has been on the wrong end of, say, a peasants' revolt will know that in skilled hands it is fearsome.”

“Very few people believe in the devil these days, which suits the devil very well. He is always helping to circulate the news of his own death. The essence of God is existence, and He defines Himself as: 'I am Who am.' The essence of the devil is the lie, and he defines himself as: 'I am who am not.' Satan has very little trouble with those who do not believe in him; they are already on his side.”

“Precisely who are you,Captain Sharpe?"He looked into that beautiful, treacherous face and a sweep of lust rushed through him. "You want to know who I am? Well, I am the devil incarnate and you,my sweet, are about to pay the devil's due.”