“I've got my own moral compass to steer byA guiding star beats a spirit in the skyAnd all the preaching voices -Empty vessels ring so loudAs they move among the crowdFools and thieves are well disguisedIn the temple and market placeLike a stone in the riverAgainst the floods of springI will quietly resistLike the willows in the windOr the cliffs along the oceanI will quietly resistI don't have faith in faithI don't believe in beliefYou can call me faithlessI still cling to hopeAnd I believe in loveAnd that's faith enough for meI've got my own spirit level for balanceTo tell if my choice is leaning up or downAnd all the shouting voicesTry to throw me off my courseSome by sermon, some by forceFools and thieves are dangerousIn the temple and market placeLike a forest bows to winterBeneath the deep white silenceI will quietly resistLike a flower in the desertThat only blooms at nightI will quietly resist”

“I get up at seven yeah and I go to work at nine. I got no time for livin'. Yes I'm workin' all the time. It seems to me I could live my life a lot better than I think I am. I guess that's why they call me they call me the workin' man.”

“Excuse me, but I believe you have my lady,” one of them said in a quiet, deep voice that sent veritable chills down George’s spine.Harry.”

“If these town gods can't detect the thieves who steal from their own temples, it's hardly likely they'll tell me who stole my spade.”

“I’ll tell you now. That silence almost beat me. It’s the silence that scares me. It’s the blank page on which I can write my own fears. The spirits of the dead have nothing on it. The dead one tried to show me hell, but it was a pale imitation of the horror I can paint on the darkness in a quiet moment.”

“Though we might have precious littleIt's still preciousI like that song about this wonderful worldIt's got a sunny point of viewAnd sometimes I feel it's trueAt least for a few of usI like that world, it makes a wonderful songBut there's a darker point of viewBut sadly just as trueFor so many among usThough we might have precious littleIt's still preciousIn the sweetest child there's a vicious streakIn the strongest man there's a child so weakIn the whole wide world there's no magic placeSo you might as well rise put on your bravest faceI like that show where they solve all the murdersAn heroic point of viewIt's got justice and vengeance tooAt least so the story goesI like that story, makes a satisfying caseBut there's a messy point of viewThat's sadly just as trueFor so many among usIn softest voice there's an acid tongueIn the oldest eyes there's a soul so youngIn the shakiest will there's a core of steelOn the smoothest ride there's a squeaky wheelThough we might have precious littleIt's still precious”

“I believe in the cosmos. All of us are linked to the cosmos. So nature is my god. To me, nature is sacred. Trees are my temples and forests are my cathedrals. Being at one with nature.”