"For mankind may survive and live without machines, and still be civilised. But without compassion, the human race can only elaborate upon the futile cunning and the barren intelligence of the great apes."

"Thus, ultimately, there never could be an absolute end; just as there never could have been an absolute beginning. There could only be a continuous unfolding."

"There is no other god but life. Life is the only holy thing. And when that goes that is the death of God."

"But in adversity, intelligence alone cannot sustain hope. Ultimately, hope can be sustained only by finding purpose in adversity, by imposing a pattern on the fortuitous disasters of existence. Human beings, if force to it, will compromise their intelligence to preserve their hope."

"All fanaticism springs from the religious impulse."

"All living things sustain each other. All living things depend upon death not as an end, an absolute completion, but as a beginning of a new rhythm, a way of fulfillment in passing on the restless force of life."

"There is no acceptable true image."

"For death is only a loss of radiance , and birth is only the beginning of a separate journey."

"But it may be that there is happiness in the very things we rejected - in work and responsibility. In the rearing of children and in the challenge of permanent love."

"It is the nature of men to act negatively but to dream and hope positively."

"It is not in the nature of man to accept permanent failure."

"There is only the eternal serial moment of now. It contains the total pattern, the complete history."

"Perhaps justified violence is better than peace at any price."

"He who expects little is rarely disappointed."

"But no one can be immune to the laws of chance."

"It is an inflexible law that all living things must seek to dominate their environment."

"Only ideals are dangerous."

"In a fantastic world, the fantastic had become merely ordinary."

"Cultures and societies consumed each other, as well as animals and men."

"Mrs. Snow had lived forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were."

"Well, maybe 'tis natural. Of course things you don't know about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody over in India wanted ME?"

"...this great grey pile of stone has been a house, never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make a home..."

"It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks better than other folks do, isn't it?"

"What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too, before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes — his neighbors will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the good — you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox — then watch him start, alert and interested!"

"The boy shrugged. "I've forgotten it," was all he said. And then, "I guess I wasn't taught well enough.""

"Maybe I'd better call a halt to the journal for a bit. Until something crops up, that is, which it hopefully won't for a couple of decades. In the meantime: farewell, enjoy your futile lives, etc. This is Bartimaeus, care of The Other Place, signing off."

"Together, we must advance unafraid into the modern age!"

"The boy did the preliminaries, sealing the circles, erecting the bonds. Now we were all subject to the rules of the summoning. But then he stopped. He did not progress. The woman looked at him furiously. "I've forgotten it," he said."

"No attack yet by Archmage. Wish he'd hurry up."

"Spy three suspicious butterflies flitting over hedge. Check the planes. Yep, small foliots, arms flapping wildly. Wasp rises up behind them, shoots down out of sun, zaps them with Infernos, one, two, three. Burning butterflies crash-land in pond. Alert master to my triumph. She inspects charred fragments. Her scowl deepens; turns out they were her slaves, returning with valuable information."

"[T]he magician emerges from bed and we recount our tale. Her response lacks gratitude: stammering furiously, she chides us for the damage to her lawns and flowerbed. The boy is smacked; I am Spasmed; we both spend the day with nail-clippers attending to the damage to the garden."

"Today summoned painfully to earth by a short fat English magician with a dangerous stammer*."

"Wednesday Yep, same again. Saw a few nice whirling colours and things. That's it. Easy, this journal lark, isn't it?"

"So I departed, leaving behind a pungent smell of brimstone. Just something to remember me by."

"I'm only introducing it because of a small sub-clause in an Official Charge that escaped my notice a year or two back. Unfortunately the author didn't forget. Like elephants, authors are – nothing contractual escapes them."

"Take that stupid grin off your face," he said. "You're putting me off." "Sorry." I adopted a hideous expression of malady and woe. "That's not much better."

"A better plan would be to head straight for Bart's Guide to London, since that's hugely entertaining and witty, i.e. written by me."

"I know you," he said. "I know your scent. Long ago, yes, but I never forget. I know your name." "A friend of a friend, perhaps?" I eyed his spear-tip nervously. Unlike Eagle-beak, he didn't wave it about at all. "No... an enemy..." "Terrible when you can't remember something that's right on the tip of your tongue," I observed. "Isn't it, though? And you try so hard to recall it, but often as not you can't because some fool's interrupting you, prattling away so you can't concentrate, and-" Bull-head gave a bellow of rage. "Shut up! I almost had it then!"

""Woken up, have you?" the woman said. Her voice was like broken glass in an ice bucket.†"

"In the middle of the lawn was a lake adorned with an ornamental fountain, depicting an amorous Greek god trying to kiss a dolphin.†"