“Pompeii has nothing to teach us,we know crack of volcanic fissure,slow flow of terrible lava,pressure on heart, lungs, the brainabout to burst its brittle case(what the skull can endure!)”

“It was a jaw cracking, lung-bursting yawn that lasted almost a minute.”

“Can you do any nature sounds, birdcalls?""Birdcalls?" He'd cracked from the pressure. "In case you need me.”

“There is no way to learn endurance other than simply to endure. We can’t learn it in principle or in theory; only pain can teach it to us.”

“The brittle bones beneath my chest cracked, piercing my heart. It was you who breathed new life into my lungs and it was you who would later syphon the life you had given so as to feed your selfish desires”

“But what is the philosophy of this generation? Not God is dead, that point was passed long ago. Perhaps it should be stated Death is God. This generation thinks – and this is its thought of thoughts – that nothing faithful, vulnerable, fragile can be durable or have any true power. Death waits for these things as a cement floor waits for a dropping light bulb. The brittle shell of glass loses its tiny vacuum with a burst, and that is that. And this is how we teach metaphysics on each other. "You think history is the history of loving hearts? You fool! Look at these millions of dead. Can you pity them, feel for them? You can nothing! There were too many. We burned them to ashes, we buried them with bulldozers. History is the history of cruelty, not love as soft men think.”