Change is the handmaiden Nature requires to do her miracles with

All saints can do miracles, but few of them can keep a hotel

We are chameleons, and our partialities and prejudices change place with an easy and blessed facility, and we are soon wonted to the change and happy in it.

The joy of killing! the joy of seeing killing done - these are traits of the human race at large.

Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.

Humans! They lived in a world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water! A mere quantum-mechanistic tunnel effect, that'd happen anyway if you were prepared to wait zillions of years. As if the turning of sunlight into wine, by means of vines and grapes and time and enzymes, wasn't a thousand times more impressive and happened all the time...