“And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,In corporal sufferance finds a pang as greatAs when a giant dies.”

“I was exercised about the poor fish, as I am about all my pals, close or distant, who find themselves treading upon Life's banana skins.”

“The demon bowed his head. “There are many kinds of Hunts. It is what defines us, renews us. It is the same for you, Hunter. We are born in blood, and we will die in blood, but in the interim, we must put fire to our veins and find new paths to tread upon.” Tendrils of hair tapped his head. “Paths, up here.”

“We human beings are only a part of something very much larger. When we walk along, we may crush a beetle or simply cause a change in the air so that a fly ends up where it might never have gone otherwise. And if we think of the same example but with ourselves in the role of the insect, and the larger universe in the role we've just played, it's perfectly clear that we're affected every day by forces over which we have no more control than the poor beetle has over our gigantic foot as it descends upon it. What are we to do? We must use whatever methods we can to understand the movement of the universe around us and time our actions so that we are not fighting the currents, but moving with them.”

“I would rather die a spinster—poor, ruined, scorned, and alone—than suffer that heartbreak daily.”

“And still we love the evil causeAnd of the just effect complain;We tread upon life's broken lawsAnd murmur at our self-inflicted pain.”