“Up goes the rocket. Its golden grain falls, fertilising, upon the rich soil of my imagination.”

“Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones.”

“It is better for you to be free of fear lying upon a pallet, than to have a golden couch and a rich table and be full of trouble.”

“The festival of Lughnasadh speaks of fullness and bounty of richness and sacrifice. As cornfields ripple in the late summer breeze and whisper golden promises of the grain harvest to come, we know deep within our psyche that the darkness is but a heartbeat away.”

“Death should be a celebration. Like a birthday. I want to go up like a rocket when my time comes, and fall down in a cloud of stars, and hear everyone go: ahh!”

“Why cover the same ground again? ... It goes against my grain to repeat a tale told once, and told so clearly.”