“Elisa thought how empty the prayers sounded. The words rattled around in the ancient rafters and then returned to them like dead leaves falling from the trees. No life. No shade of hope. Only a cold wind that blew into their very souls.”

“This is me, God! Elisa. I once saw you in all the world. But the world is dark now, Lord. Full. Full of darkness. Close your eyes for a moment, God, and let me sing to you. Let me remember that you are here. Here in the notes. Smiling down as I play for you. Just this moment, God, let me sing to you. And maybe in the song, I will forget whether I am singing to you, or you are singing to me . . . ”

“He scowled at the typewriter, at the empty sheet of paper.”

“Anger is the wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.”

“ . . . he thought how easy it would be to simply kick his typewriter onto the floor and smash it to pieces among the wads of discarded paper that overflowed his waste basket.”

“The Reich may tell you whom you may love and whom you must hate. Oh, yes, Thomas, the Reich can dictate the inward life of every man.""Not the inward life." Thomas looked up sharply. "Only the outward show.”

“Hot tears rolled from Herschel's eyes and he wiped them away, afraid that they would drip through the boards and onto his father's unfeeling tormentors.”