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The world is a room of heavy furniture. Eventually you are allowed to leave.
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It can be a little difficult to command attention when surrounded by lunatics.
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She wanted to stay out there, to hang on her branch in the world until the cold had burned down to her bones. She could leave her whitened bones scattered on the snow and depart like light. Whitened bones. A whited sepulcher.
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I am not a book collector, and I am not fussy about particular editions. As long as the words are there I don't mind.
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Do not, the angel told her, 'ask to see him. His love is a flood. His glory is a fire. You could not withstand it.
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Madness has no sense of humour.
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He thought that the edge of the world was a day's walk away, there where the cloud-breeding sky touched the horizon. He thought that when he got there he would find a deep pit and he would be able to look down into it and see the world's secrets.
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He watched with great pleasure the skill of the men, their knives quick as fish.