“There is fear hanging in the air of the sleeping halls, and the air of the streets. Fear walks through the city, fear without name, without shape. All men feel it and none dare speak.”

“We, Equality 7-2521, were not happy in those year in the Home of the Students. It was not that the learning was too hard for us. It was that the learning was too easy. This is a great sin, to be bo...”

“My happiness is not the means to any end. It is the end. It is its own goal. It is its own purpose.”

“At first, man was enslaved by the gods. But he broke their chains. Then he was enslaved by the kings. But he broke their chains. He was enslaved by his birth, by his kin, by his race. But he broke ...”

“I stand here on the summit of the mountain. I lift my head and I spread my arms. This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest. I wished to know the meaning of all things. I am the meaning...”

“For the coming of that day shall I fight, I and my sons and my chosen friends. For the freedom of Man. For his rights. For his life. For his honor.”

“Jack mayve been deceitful by blood and a liar by nature, but hot damn holy honeysuckle, he knew how to kiss.”

“No misery compares to staring at a clear night's sky with arms stretched toward a coveted star, wishing on what is forever out of reach.”

“Jack may’ve been deceitful by blood and a liar by nature, but hot damn holy honeysuckle, he knew how to kiss.”

“Seek a slower, simpler life.”

“There is no such thing as escape after all, only an exchange of one set of difficulties for another. It wasn't Mark or the farm or marriage I was trying to shake loose from but my own imperfect sel...”

“Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone; often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear...”

“...and the country is like a great unfolded mantle with a green velvet cape bordered with a fringe of silver.”

“Night simply drapes itself over the dayAs if someone had lowered a curtain.The sky glitters and moves,Filled with shooting stars and fireflies.”

“In the infancy of society every author is necessarily a poet, because language itself is poetry. Owen Barfield”