“For, while the tale of how we suffer, and how we are delighted, and how we may triumph is never new, it always must be heard. There isn't any other tale to tell, it's the only light we've got in all this darkness.”

“How easy it is to tell tales!”

“I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 'twas said to me.”

“That's what learning is, after all; not whether we lose the game, but how we lose and how we've changed because of it and what we take away from it that we never had before, to apply to other games. Losing, in a curious way, is winning.”

“Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!”

“All legends must be based on lies, Gordon realized. We exaggerate, and even come to believe the tales, after a while.”

“How rarely do our emotions meet the object they seem to deserve? How hopelessly we signal; how dark the sky; how big the waves. We are all lost at sea, washed between hope and despair, hailing something that may never come to rescue us.”

“How shall we venture home?
How shall we tell each other of the poet?”

“No matter how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”

“I'm fascinated with the stories that we tell. Real histories become fantasies and fairy tales, morality tales and fables.”