“To enjoy something fully, you had to own it.”

“He had tattooed all of the names of the men he had killed on his body...unfortunately he had run out of room.”

“Statues lined the stairs and stood, dotted across the roof. But they had been brutalized by time and the weather. Some were missing arms. Many had no faces. Once they had been saints and angels. Two hundred years standing in London had turned them into cripples.”

“McCain might have suffered hardships in his life, but what had happened to him had nothing to do with his background or his color; they were convenient excuses now. He had been a psychopath from the start.”

“I love to kill fish,' Sayle went on. 'But when I saw this specimen of Physalia physalis, I knew I had to capture it and keep it. You see, it reminds me of myself.''It's ninety-nine per cent water. It has no brain, no guts and no anus.' Alex had dredged up the facts from somewhere and spoken them before he knew what he was doing.”

“It sometimes seemed to Alex that the whole universe was against him. Getting away from FLamingo Bay had almost killed him. It had been an exhausting struggle against time, the elements, and Drevin's firepower.And now he was going back.It was the CIA agent, Ed Shulsky, who had made it happen.Alex, you know the place. I need you to tell me where they're holding Tamara. You can give me a layout of the island. Anyway, we don't have much time. You saw for yourself. The rocket is on its way, and if what you've told me is true-"It is." Alex felt a spurt of annoyance. Why should the American doubt, even for a moment, what he said? Was it perhaps because he was only fourteen?Shulsky noticed his reaction. "I'm sorry. That was out of line. But this plan of his, Ark Angel...Washington..." He shook his head. "It's beyond anything we could have imagined. And that's why we have to take him out. Right now. We don't have time to drop you off."But you're too late," Alex argued. "Gabriel 7 has gone. What are going to do? Shoot it down?”

“Alex decided he’d had enough. He put down his knife. “All right,” he said. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want to work with me. Well, that’s fine. Because I don’t want to work with you either. And for what it’s worth, nobody would ever believe you were my mom because no mom would ever behave like you.” “Alex…,” Carver began. “Forget it! I’m going back to London. And if you’re Mr. Byrne asks why, you can tell him I didn’t like the jelly, so I went home to get some jam.”