“Alas! Victor, when falsehood can look so like the truth, who can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?”

“When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?”

“Beauty, like truth, is relative to the time when one lives and to the individual who can grasp it.”

“Was he happy? One would ask that question in vain. A question like this makes sense only when applied to creatures who are rich in alternative possibilities, so that the actual truth can be contrasted with partly real probabilities and reflect itself in them.”

“Your truth may not look like mine, but that is not what matters. What matters is this: You can look at a scar and see hurt, or you can look at a scar and see healing.”

“But who have the ability to know what will fit into a new individual? And who can say to someone else what happiness looks like, who can say what someone else wants to be?”