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Creation never ceased on the sixth evening, it occurs to the young man. Creation unfolds around us, despite us and through us, at the speed of days and nights, and we like to call it ‘Love’.
To list and name people, he thinks, is to subjugate them.
‘Nothing is outside philosophy,’ claims Ômori, ‘unless fear says it is.’
“Too many captains,” ’ Awatsu quotes, ‘ “sail the ship up the mountain.”
“The one dog who barks at nothing answered by a thousand dogs barking at something . . .” ’
The belly craves food, she thinks, the tongue craves water, the heart craves love and the mind craves stories.
The word ‘my’ brings pleasure. The word ‘my’ brings pain. These are true words for masters as well as slaves.
The readiest apologies, Penhaligon observes, carry the littlest worth.
If only, Shiroyama dreams, human beings were not masks behind masks behind masks.
Titles, titles, thinks Jacob. So stupid, so important.
the easiest way to control others is to give them the illusion of free-will.
‘My life is in the hands of God.’ ‘Oh, the grief,’ Marinus heaves, ‘those few, pious words can bring about.’
perhaps the luckiest are those born from an unthought thought: that the intolerable gulf between lovers can be bridged only by the bones and cartilage of a new being.
