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It was a city in love with beginnings.
“But what good is it to teach a child to count, if you don’t show him that he counts for something?”
It occurred to him that no one who hadn’t been in battle could know what things were worth.
I was brought up to believe that everyone brave is forgiven, but in wartime courage is cheap and clemency out of season.
The young see the world that they wish for. The old see the world as it is. You must tell me which you think the more honest.”
Look at us, won’t you? We are a nation of glorious cowards, ready to battle any evil but our own.”
They spoke of small things at first, since it was best, when reattaching threads, to begin with the easiest knots.
How strange, that the struggle and its absence should leave one equally afraid.
