“Our inventions mirror our secret wishes.”

“We live" writes Pursewarden somewhere, "lives based upon selected fictions. Our view of reality is conditioned by our position in space and time - not by our personalities as we like to think. Thus every interpretation of reality is based upon a unique position. Two paces east or west and the whole picture is changed.”

“I have decided to leave Clea’s last letter un-answered. I no longer wish to coerce anyone, to make promises, to think of life in terms of compacts, resolutions, covenants. It will be up to Clea to interpret my silence according to her own needs and desires, to come to me if she has need or not, as the case may be. Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?”

“Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?”

“What are stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?”

“Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.”

“Art like life is an open secret.”