Great events turn on small hinges.
This life we think we’re living isn’t real. It’s just a shadow play, and I for one will be glad when the lights go out on it. In the dark, all the shadows disappear.
Sane people don’t sacrifice children on the altar of probability. That’s not science, it’s superstition.
What you did for yourself was what gave you the power.
Love don’t die with the earthly body, son. It’s a purely ridiculous notion.
