“Pickaxes?" Alex screwed up his brow. "What do you plan to do with those in Bristol, Pooele? Beat upon little old ladies?”

“This side of the Kingdom of God upon Earth, it is a melancholy human fact that those who beat their swords into plowshares end up doing the plowing for those who kept their swords.”

“Alex snorted as he packed the wound with sticky rice."Is that stuff sterile?" Ted asked, staring at Alex."They boil it, don't they?" Alex said, not looking up from what he was doing.Ted's frown deepened. "That doesn't seem like enough.""Trust me." Alex looked up now and smiled a little. His voice altered just a little bit, not enough to be a full command voice, but enough to be way more persuasive than any normal person's voice. "It's an old wives' tale, but it works every time.”

“When you must choose a new path, do not bring old experiences with you. Those who strike out afresh, but who attempt to retain a little of the old life, end up torn apart by their own memories.”

“The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."Said the old man, "I do that too."The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."I do that too," laughed the little old man.Said the little boy, "I often cry."The old man nodded, "So do I."But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.I know what you mean," said the little old man.”

“what you brought from your past, is of no use in your present. When you must choose a new path, do not bring old experiences with you. Those who strike out afresh, but who attempt to retain a little of the old life, end up torn apart by their own memories.”