“Life went on, despite all the dying.”
“And all because of a mistaken concept of compassion!”
“Say what you like: God is just, after all.”
“If you want to know who is responsible for anything, ask who benefits from it.”
“In the past few years, genealogical research has become increasingly popular. Perhaps one of the reasons for this is that we are trying, in a world of increasing complexity, to create a simpler and more understandable place for ourselves. No longer do we grow up in large families. We feel increasingly estranged, replaceable, and ephemeral. Genealogy gives us a feeling of immortality. The individual dies; the family lives on.”
“It’s the wrong people that suffer, not the poor.”
“When he dipped into the mysteries of nature, he was sure that there must be a God. Who else could create such lovely works of art? Man's inventions could only ape those of his Creator. On the other hand, it was the same God who ensured that people died like flies, carried off by plague and war. It was difficult in such times to believe in God, but Jakob Kuisl discovered Him in the beauties of nature.”
“The hangman, a friend of humanity--who would have thought it?”
“His love for this girl was so strong now, at this moment, that he would readily give up everything for her.”
“because a rumor is like smoke. It will spread, it will seep through closed doors and latched shutters, and in the end the whole town will smell of it.”
“because a rumor is like smoke.”
“October 12 was a good day for a killing.”
“I tell my seven-year-old son about his remarkable forefathers. I leave out the bloody details. (For him these people are like knights, which sounds better than hangmen or executioners.) In his bedroom hangs a collage made up of photos of long-dead family members--great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents, their aunts, their uncles, their nephews and nieces..Sometimes at night he wants to hear stories about these people, and I tell him what I know about them. Happy stories, sad stories, frightening stories. For him the family is a safe refuge, a link binding him to many people whom he loves and who love him. I once heard that everyone on this earth is at least distantly related to everyone else. Somehow this is a comforting idea.”
“The hangman looked through the glass at a heap of yellow stars, which were glittering in the light of the tallow candle. Crystals like snow, each one perfect in its form and arrangement. Jakob Kuisl smiled. When he dipped into the mysteries of nature, he was sure that there must be a God. Who else could create such lovely works of art? Man’s inventions could only ape those of his Creator. On the other hand, it was the same God who ensured that people died like flies, carried off by plague and war. It was difficult in such times to believe in God, but Jakob Kuisl discovered Him in the beauties of nature.”
“That morning, when Simon, at the end of a long night, had climbed out of the tunnels, he had believed that nothing could ever be the same as it had been before. But he had been wrong. Life was going on, at least for a little while longer.”
“...we are trying, in a world of increasing complexity, to create a simpler and more understandable place for ourselves. No longer do we grow up in large families. We feel increasingly estranged, replaceable, and ephemeral. Genealogy gives us a feeling of immortality. The individual dies; the family lives on.”
“Exercitatio anatomica de motu cordis et sanguinis,” he murmured. A disputed book that was based on the idea that all the blood in the body was part of a perpetual circulation powered by the heart. Simon’s professors in Ingolstadt had laughed at this theory, and even his father had found it far-fetched.”
“Yes, it’s always the poor people who suffer.” Angrily,”
“If you want to know who is responsible for anything, as who benefits from it.”
“He had the feeling that humanity was running in place. So many centuries and they had not learned anything new.”
“still quite visible. A purple circle with a cross under it.”
“These women with their feminine wisdom had always been suspect to men. They knew potions and herbs; they touched women in indecent spots; and they knew how to get rid of the fruit of the womb, that gift of God. Many midwives had been burned as witches by men.”
“People fight with tooth and nail when they come into the world, and when they have to go they fight too.”
“When he dipped into the mysteries of nature, he was sure that there must be a God. Who else could create such lovely works of art? Man’s inventions could only ape those of his Creator. On the other hand, it was the same God who ensured that people died like flies, carried off by plague and war. It was difficult in such times to believe in God, but Jakob Kuisl discovered Him in the beauties of nature.”
“Drums rumbled, cymbals clanged, and somewhere a fiddle was playing. The aroma of deep-fried doughnuts and roasted meat drifted down to the foul-smelling tanners’ quarter. Yes, it was going to be a lovely execution.”
“Nobody in the town liked to meet the hangman.”
“The scream reached the ears of Simon Fronwieser along with the sound of pounding downstairs at the front door. The physician’s house in the Hennengasse was just a stone’s throw from the river. Earlier, Simon had looked up from his books several times, distracted by the shouting of the raftsmen. Now that the screams were resounding through the narrow lanes of the town, he knew that something must have happened. The knock at the door grew more urgent. With a sigh he closed one of his hefty anatomy volumes. Like all the others, this book never went below the surface of the human body. The composition of the humors, bleeding as a universal remedy…Simon had read these same litanies far too many times, but they hadn’t really taught him anything about the inside of the body. And nothing would change today, as along with the knocking there was now shouting downstairs.”
“This was the night of April thirtieth—Walpurgis Night! Witches danced in the forests and mated with the devil, and many people armed themselves against evil by means of magic: magic signs in their windows and salt before their doors.”
“The witch’s thumbs are tied to her toes and then she’s thrown into the water. If she floats to the surface, it’s because the devil is helping her, and she’s a witch. If she sinks, she’s innocent, but you’re rid of her anyway.”
“How am I supposed to forget you?” Helen asked, laughing weakly at such a silly suggestion. “You’re too big a part of me. I’d have to forget who I am to forget you.”
“First, I'm not getting married, so you can forget the wife. Second, if I was insane enough to get married, I wouldn't have kids. Third, if I was insane enough to get married and have kids, it would be a cold day in hell I'd let you babysit.”
“Things have a habit of working out, you know. Eventually.”
“What do you do?' she asks, holding out the vest.
'What do you do?'
'What do you do?' she asks, her voice shaking. 'Don't ask me, please. Okay, Clay?'
'Why not?'
She sits on the mattress after I get up. Muriel screams.
'Because... I don't know,' she sighs.
I look at her and don't feel anything and walk out with my vest.”
“Once things were different, but now they're the same. He reckons he can live with that; for a guy like him, the rule of thumb is just SSDD, and so fucking what. You grew up, became a man, had to adjust to taking less than you hoped for; you discovered the dream-machine had a big OUT OF ORDER sign on it.”
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