“Ah! I wish I had the courage to work for the debasement of my contemporaries. What good work it would be to defile their daughters: to insinuate something obscene into the infantile hands which caress each paternal beard and cheek; to poison them, even at the risk of perishing ourselves; to do as those Spanish monks did, who drank death in order that they might persuade the French rabble which had violated their monastery to do likewise.”
“What will you do now?'I think I will become a monk and devote my entire life to prayer and good works.'No,' said Rek. 'I mean, what will you do today?'Ah! Today I'll get drunk and go whoring,' said Bowman.”
“He had then warned his daughter not to violate the Eleventh Commandment."Which one is that?" I asked her."Do not bullshit thy father," she said.”
“I work, I want to do something, but I had forgotten it must all end; I had forgotten--death.”
“There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.”
“Ironic that in order to do my life's work, I had to quit my day job.”