“I could only get on at all by taking "nature" into my confidence and my account, by treating my monstrous ordeal as a push in a direction unusual, of course, and unpleasant, but demanding, after all, for a fair front, only another turn of the screw of ordinary human virtue.”

“Only you could take one of my worst character faults and turn it into a virtue.”

“More than half of my life is past; I have left only the time I need for turning the rest of it to account and for effacing my errors by my virtues.”

“If I had a friend and loved him because of the benefits which this brought me and because of getting my own way, then it would not be my friend that I loved but myself. I should love my friend on account of his own goodness and virtues and account of all that he is in himself. Only if I love my friend in this way do I love him properly.”

“Only what?” I asked. I could barely hear my own voice.He turned his gaze back to me, firm and unflinching. “Only… more human.”And that was it. All the anger and sorrow vanished. There was nothing in me.Nothing at all. I was empty.“Get out,” I said.”

“The buttons I usually push don't need my force, only my intention. Buttons are supposed to be servants, waiting to deliver your commands to the machine. Instead, this loud, dumb piece of steel I'm driving demands that I pay strict attention to every turn of the road, keep my hands and feet ready at all times. The car takes no responsibility for the job of driving. It leaves me in total control.I hate it. I don't want control. I just want to get there”