“...he at no time thought himself out of the Black Douglas's reach, any more than the good Christian supposes himself out of reach of the wiles of the devil; while every new temptation, instead of confirming his hope, seems to announce that the immediate retreat of the Evil One will be followed by some new attack yet more cunningly devised.”

“A schlemihl is a schlemihl. What can you "make" out of one? What can one make out of himself? You reach a point, and Profane knew he had reached it, where you know how much you can and cannot do. But every now and again he got attacks of acute optimism.”

“His error lay in supposing that this age, more than any past or future one, is destined to see the tattered garments of Antiquity exchanged for a new suit, instead of gradually renewing themselves by patchwork; in applying his own little life span as the measure of an interminable acheivement; and, more than all, in fancying that it mattered anything to the great end in view whether he himself should contend for it or against it.”

“If a man goes a little too far along a new road, it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else.”

“Oh God, please, I have to, please, just once more; I have to see her again. He marched onwards, his crippled leg dragging behind; his good leg hauling his exhausted body through the kind of pain he didn’t think existed. He reached out, grasped clumps of hope with bloodied hands, and pulled himself onwards.”

“Now Doon seemed to care for his new friends more than he did for her. Every time she thought about him she felt a thud of pain, like a bruised place inside her.”