In her heart, The World Gehrman Sparrow’s image had long since turned from a crazy adventurer and an extremely dangerous Beyonder to a person who wore a cold and tough facade but was a gentle, powerful, loving, mysterious, and lonely man who was burdened with many friends on his back.

I...
Who am I?
This was a question that Klein had an answer to when he was still a Faceless. He didn’t need to think too much about it as he quickly understood his identity:
A person from Earth, a person who had been reconstructed from Klein’s memory fragments;
A person whose experience as a Nighthawk deeply influenced him;
A person who played safe and was afraid of danger, but was able to persist and give up everything;
A guardian and a miserable wretch.

Life is possible by being in death’s embrace!

Dying, he knew not his executor; surviving, he knew not the circumstances.

"Heh heh, miracles are only for a moment, but fate is often a long-lasting event."

"Even deities cannot escape; Imprisonment even in death."

"From the beginning, you’ve been a guardian. You mimicked others until you were mimicked by others."

The awakening of The World spells The Fool’s return.

"A price is always exacted for what fate bestows."

Does such a thing as 'the fatal flaw,' that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn't. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.

Forgive me, for all the things I did but mostly for the ones that I did not.

Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.

I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.

"But how," said Charles, who was close to tears, "how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?"

Henry lit a cigarette. "I prefer to think of it," he had said, "as redistribution of matter."

I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.

Anything is grand if it's done on a large enough scale.

After all, the appeal to stop being yourself, even for a little while, is very great.

"It's beautiful here, but morning light can make the most vulgar things tolerable."

For if the modern mind is whimsical and discursive, the classical mind is narrow, unhesitating, relentless.

Death is the mother of beauty.

Knowing was one thing, and seeing it with your own eyes was another thing. The two of them subconsciously exchanged a look, their thoughts and emotions complicated.

The person they had had a lengthy rilvalry over and sulked about for an age was as straight as Sun Wukong's staff.

And right now this "golden cudgel," faced with his dream partner, was having an attack of Straight Guy Stupidity.

In the final analysis, fate was a murderous bitch.

"But actually I sometimes think that trauma is someting similar", Lu Jia's tone changed. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched in the confined space. "Trauma can also change a person beyond recognition. Sometimes you look at other people, then look in the mirror, and you feel hollow inside. You think, how did I become like this? I don't even recognize myself."

"I'm not the person gazing into the abyss. I am the abyss."

Luo Wenzhou grabbed his shoulder. "Fei Du, you're the expert. You tell me, what is post-traumatic stress disorder, and what symptoms does it have?"

Fei Du took a breath with difficulty. "I don't have any..."

"Any what?"

Trauma." Fei Du noticed that his voice was hoarse and cleared his throat. He said, "Fei Chengyu really didn't hit me, didn't cause me any bodily harm. Or else wouldn't I have had to go to the hospital? If other people had gotten involved, I couldn't not remember it."

Luo Wenzhou looked at Fei Du in astonishment. "Since when does 'trauma' mean bodily harm? Student Fei Du, tell me the truth, did you pass your final exam?--It's all right, I won't make fun of you if you have to make them up."

Of all the deep negative feeling in the world, hatred for your own cowardice and powerlessness was always the most intense, the most bone-piercing. It was even often unendurable , making it necessary to find a way to turn it around and blame it on other people and things.

God and demons couldn't lose control; it was only humans who could.

I'll trust you again, even though you have such an unreliable record, and if you hurt me again... It seems I still won't be able not to love you.