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"—and knowing what I know now,—"
"There's the Catch, of course," Dixon pretending to be calm.
"What.—"
"Knowing what tha know now. Tha won't. That's part of the Price,— to drink from Lethe, and lose all thy Memories."

"You play, you win, you play, you lose. You play. It's the playing that's irresistible. Dicing from one year to the next with the things you love, what you risk reveals what you value."

still working on this... very slowly

Everything was real; inconceivably real, infinitely dear.
These and all things started as nothing, latent within a vast energy-broth, but then we named them, and loved them, and, in this way, brought them forth. And now we must lose them.

He came out of nothingness, took form, was loved, was always bound to return to nothingness.