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«The great man folded his palms and bowed all around him. He had one of those either/or faces that all great Indian politicians have. This face says that it is now at peace - and you can be at peace too if you follow the owner of that face. But the same face can also say, with a little twitch of its features, that it has known the opposite of peace: and it can make this other fate yours too, if it so wishes.» p. 103-104.
A propósito das incertezas sobre a verdade, p. 171:
«Si el hombre no era más que la serie de sus actos (...) nunca estaría definido antes de su muerte: uno solo, el último de sus actos, podía aniquilar su existencia anterior, contradecir toda su vida. Y a la vez, sobre todo, era justamente la serie de mis actos lo que yo más temia. El hombre no era más que lo que yo más temia.»
Longo, demasiado longo livro e longuíssimo tempo de leitura. Li aos bocadinhos, a poupar o que lia e a ler para durar. Valeu enquanto demorou.
Houve momentos de descrença, desorientação e desânimo. Mas lá apareceram nacos suculentos e trechos apetitosos.
Até que se chega ao cap. 34, Livro 3, p. 577, e deslinda-se uma parte da história e do que o livro pretende contar:
«The first question is why you had to leave me. I want to know the real reason. I know what your letter said - that you had become involved with another man. I read it, of course. And read it and read it and reread it. And I suppose it does offer some kind of explanation. But I can`t believe it`s the real reason. It doesn`t quite ring true. I`m not saying it`s a lie, but I can`t help feeling it`s nothing but a kind of metaphor.»