“It becomes so easy to believe what one wishes to believe,” Jhary said wearily. “So easy.” — Michael Moorcock

“How will the doctor fare?” Corum called. “The one who took me in.”

“He will die unless he is clever and denounces you,” Jhary told him.

“But he was a man of great intelligence and humanity. A man of science, too—of learning.”

“All the more reason for killing him, if their priesthood has its way. Superstition, not learning, is respected here.”

Chaos delights in creation but swiftly becomes bored with what it creates for it seeks not order or justice or constancy but sensation, entertainment. Sometimes it suits it to create something which you and I would value or find pleasure in. But it is an accident.

“You think we are in danger there?”

“Danger? It depends what you regard as dangerous. Some wisdom may be dangerous to one man and not to another.”