Five Ways to Forgiveness (Hainish Cycle, #7)

by Ursula K. Le Guin

His words cost him so much, she thought, not like hers that just came dancing out of the air and went back into it.

There’s more than one kind of knowledge, said the historians. By his third year, Havzhiva had decided that there was more than one kind of people.

“No truth can make another truth untrue. All knowledge is a part of the whole knowledge. A true line, a true color. Once you have seen the larger pattern, you cannot go back to seeing the part as the whole.”

I have told what I must tell. There are truths that are not useful.

“Don’t make me laugh!” I said, and began crying. I wept all the way back along the levee. I sobbed and thought the sobs were ceasing and then sobbed again. I cried for all my sorrows, all my shames. I cried because they were with me now and always would be. I cried because the gate was open and I could go through at last, go into the country on the other side, but I was afraid to.