“Poor devils! Where do these unfortunate creatures come from? On what butcher's block will they meet their end? What reward does municipal munificence allot them for thus cleaning (or dirtying) the pavements of Paris? At what age are they sent to the glue factory? What becomes of their bones (their skin is good for nothing)?”

“Poor creatures. What did we do to you? With all our schemes and plans?”

“We come from nothing, we are going back to nothing-In the end what have we lost? Nothing!”

“Because sometimes that is the only way to remember what is in your bones. You must peel off your skin, and that of your mother, and her mother. Until there is nothing. No scar, no skin, no flesh.
-An-mei”

“the reward of our work is not what we get, but what we become”

“I say, Libanus, what a poor devil a chap in love is!”

“The gods of one age become the devils of the age to follow. The priests look forward to the age to come and see only the end of the world.”

“The highest reward for a man's toil is not what he gets for it but what he becomes by it.”

“The thing is to become a master and in your old age to acquire the courage to do what children did when they knew nothing.”

“In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fair-mindedness, and gentleness with what is strange.”