“There are no answers, just questions.”

“Fiction is the best the self-help book.”

“We exist within the question of God.”

“No. Haven’t you been listening?” Marcus would always remember that moment. It was to be the first time he would ever be faced with that most vexing of female quirks: the question that had nothing but wrong answers.”

“I want you to remember this—you and I are in this life together. All the way. We don’t run just because we get sacked a few times.”

“Oh God, please, I have to, please, just once more; I have to see her again. He marched onwards, his crippled leg dragging behind; his good leg hauling his exhausted body through the kind of pain he didn’t think existed. He reached out, grasped clumps of hope with bloodied hands, and pulled himself onwards.”

“Yes, I answered you last night;No, this morning, sir, I say:Colors seen by candle-lightWill not look the same by day.”