“Why, lies are like a sticky juice overspreading the world, a living, growing flypaper to catch and gum the wings of every human soul. . . And the little helpless buzzings of honest, liberal, kindly people, aren't they like the thin little noise flies make when they're caught?”

“The shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow wings through that skin. Little blades, she was helpless.”

“My soul has painted like the wings of butterflies,Fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die,I can fly, my friends...”

“You've a soul for a compass, and a heart for a pair of wings...Why walk when you can fly?”

“He shook his head. "Some people think that they like music,but they have no idea what it's really about. They're kindding themselves. Then there are people who feel strongly about music, but just aren't listening to the right stuff. They're misguided. And then there are people like me." ... "People like you," I said. "What kind of people are those?" ..."The kind who live for music and are constantly seeking it out, anywhere they can. Who can't imagine a life without it. They're enlightened.”

“All life is energy and we are transmitting it at every moment. We are all little beaming little signals like radio frequencies, and the world is responding in kind.”