“There are few things more mysterious than endings. I mean, for example, when did the Greek gods end, exactly? Was there a day when Zeus waved magisterially down from Olympus and Aphrodite and her lover Ares, and her crippled husband Hephaestus ) I always felt sorry for him), and all the rest got rolled up like a worn-out carpet?”

“Then it was she saw him again. On the upper reaches of the scaffolding, a sheerness of presence, no more. It was as if he took the space from the air about him and against the darkness was etched, like the brightness which seeps through a door ajar, hinting at nameless, fathomless brilliances beyond, the slightest margin of light. Impossible to look too closely, but some way below, beneath where the long feet might have rested, she made out the girl's huddled shape, her arms folded over her head like some small broken-winged, storm-tossed bird.”

“He was right because he had grasped the nature of mortality. He had a mind free enough and a heart bold enough to take on board, properly take on board, that just as there are first things so also - it is after all, if we could take it in, implicit - there are last things. That everything in human life tends towards its ending and that any meeting, however full of hope and promise, will be the first stage in a progress towards a last meeting - and that this may happen sooner than we imagine and without fair warning.”

“Is it true we'd rather be ruined than changed?”

“We all long for someone with whom we are able to share our peculiar burdens of being alive.”

“You think I'm strong because I sound off and go on about things and am very direct and seem very full of myself...but the truth is, I am much, much feebler than you. I just go on like this to keep my end up. You think what you're doing is right and that gives you strength. You see, I know I'm not right, I know there is no right. The only "right" I am is that I know what I like and what I want, and what I like and what I want is you, more than anyone else in all the world does, or could."Thomas to Elizabeth "The Other Side of You”

“Our reality may be fabled, but surely will be fleeting, because when the storyteller looks away, the story collapses. In the end, we vanish like mist in the morning sun.”