If the rowan's roots are shallow, it bears no crown.

When I was young, I had to choose between the life of being and the life of doing. And I leapt at the latter like a trout to a fly. But each deed you do, each act, binds you to itself and to its consequences, and makes you act again and yet again. Then very seldom do you come upon a space, a time like this, between act and act, when you may stop and simply be. Or wonder who, after all, you are.

A man does not make his destiny: he accepts it or denies it.

Now the darkness had also spoken:a word that could not be unsaid.