“[He] was an insect wandering in the cathedral his mind had become.”

“He picked up his knife and started carving again. He concentrated on the lines and planes of the wood to keep his mind from wandering too far into the past.He had his own wounds that refused to heal.”

“My mind wanders back to the dream, to Christian, the way he's always looking out for me, catching me, keeping me on my feet. He's becoming my guardian, maybe. Someone who is there to keep me on my path.”

“The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour's talents--or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall.”

“Dinted dimpled wimpled--his mind wandered down echoing corridors of assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the point. He was enamoured with the beauty of words.”

“Make them free, and they will quickly become wise and virtous, as men become more so; for the improvement must be mutual, or the injustice which one half of the human race are obliged to submit to, retorting on their oppressors, the virtue of men will be worm-eaten by the insect whom he keeps under his feet”