“This is the nature of love." Vashet said. "To attempt to describe it will drive a woman mad. This is what keeps poets scribbling endlessly away. If one could pin it to paper all complete, the others would lay down their pens. But it cannot be done.”
“Our language needs endless synonyms for beautiful; the eyes could see what the tongue cannot possibly describe.”
“...what else would a poet priest do on an endless night, but write of love?...”
“Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to the love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him”
“A pen went scribbling along. When it tried to write love, it broke.”
“To most, being locked away in solitary with nothing but pen and paper would prove a hard punishment. What a strange creature who views this as heaven.”