Señor Palermo: Truth is meaningless noise when pronounced. It is the voice in the wind, it is the roar of the wave, the dance of falling leaves, a placid, gentle gaze… We pass it a thousand times every day without noticing. Yet it’s there for us, forgiving, idling, abiding.

Tonó: The only thoughts Buddha, Nietzsche and Uncle Adelbart have left me to say, are secret knowledge. I have them in my mind, but I can’t write them out. So, indeed, let’s run!

The Gnostic Wanderer: It’s hard to see clearly in this fog. We may as well close our eyes. Let’s run!

Master Thaur: Life’s shorter than a whisper. Don’t wait for nothing! Go!