I have no way of knowing whether the events that I am about to narrate are effects or causes.

Of course you don't know. Nobody knows why; we only know it's so, and can't tell why it's so.

You can't ever tell what's going to hurt people.

I cannot discover that anyone knows enough to say definitely what is and what is not possible.

We can never possibly know what is about to happen: it is happening, each time, for the first time, for the only time.

We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why.

What would be the description of happines? Nothing, except what prepares and then what destroys it, can be told.

You may try to trace how a thing happens, but you cannot find out why a thing is as it is. A thing is as it is because the universe is as it is.

Something is happening but you don't know what it is.

What can be described can happen too: and what the law of causality is meant to exclude cannot even be described.

The complexities of cause and effect defy analysis.

The theory of probability can never lead to a definite statement concerning a single event.

"Just tell me why; why the fucking why?" To which the universe would hollowly respond, "My ways cannot be known, oh man." Which is to say, "My ways do not make sense, nor do the ways of those who dwell in me."

You can never predict what little things in the way somebody looks or talks or acts will set off peculiar emotional reactions in other people.