“I'll tickle his catastrophe.”
“Girlfriend? Presume much?""Probably, yes." He turned his head, breath tickling my cheek. "I told you yesterday, Evy, you have healing to do, and I'll be here for you. Whatever it takes.”
“Nothing else is all right.” His whisper tickles my cheek. “But we are.”
“You may never get to touch the Master, but you can tickle his creatures.”
“The catastrophe of the tragic hero thus becomes the catastrophe of the fifth-century man; all his furious energy and intellectual daring drive him on to this terrible discovery of his fundamental ignorance - he is not the measure of all things but the thing measured and found wanting.”
“...until the fear of catastrophe amends, or catastrophe itself destroys...”