The more material we lose, the less we have. The less we have, the more we win.

If there is anything worse than evil, it is nothingness. At least evil has a form, and a voice, and a purpose, however depraved. Perhaps some good can even come out of evil: a terrible deed of violence against someone weaker may lead others to act in order to ensure that such a deed is not perpetrated again, whereas before they might have been unaware of the reasons why an individual might behave in such a way, or they might simply have chosen to ignore them. And evil, as we saw with the Blacksmith, always contains within itself the possibility of its own redemption. It is not evil that is the enemy of hope: it is nothingness.

The universe doesn't know good or bad, only less or more.

It is when we are completely fulfilled and want for nothing more that we are given everything.

The writer doesn__ write for the reader. He doesn__ write for himself, either. He writes to serve_something. Somethingness. The somethingness that is sheltered by the wings of nothingness _ those exquisite, enveloping, protecting wings.

Accept nothing. Challenge everything.