“..And they spun, he and the blackness.And as they spun supernaturally downward in a motion that Gabe could only liken to a flushing toilet, Tzaddik was engaging the enemy. This truth was lost on Gabriel Katz, but as long as he held on and fought with every ounce of his strength, every evil dot of that malevolent force, that legion of Hell sent to destroy the boy, was engaged instead with Tzaddik Gabrielus, chosen by God for that very task.”

“Words are Hamlet's constant companions, his weapons, and his defenses. ...And yet, words also serve as Hamlet's prison. He analyzes and examines every nuance of his situation until he has exhausted every angle. They cause him to be indecisive. He dallies in his own wit, intoxicated by the mix of words he can concoct; he frustrates his own burning desire to be more like his father, the Hyperion. When he says that Claudius is "... no more like my father than I to Hercules" he recognizes his enslavement to words, his inability to thrust home his sword of truth. No mythic character is Hamlet. He is stuck, unable to avenge his father's death because words control him.”

“War is not glorious. War is hell. The only reason for fighting it is toachieve some good end that cannot be achieved by any other means.”

“Time seemed to stand still as they remained embraced, him holding his body weight on his elbows as he looked down at her and grinned. “Now that’s a vacation.” She laughed and then his grin fell and he shook his head.“Like a couple of horny teenagers with no thought of tomorrow and no thought of protection. We should both be shot.” “Can you wait until the glow leaves me before you shoot me?” she asked. He smiled down at her. “You are glowing. You look gorgeous.” “It’s the look of a sated woman.” “I like it.”

“He spun out enough toilet paper to vandalize a house and carefully cleaned the seat.”

“He laughed, a low, sexy growl, as she moaned in obvious frustration. “Patience is a virtue,” he said. “Torture is a federal offense,” she replied.”

“Mendel had a remarkable nature as a boy. I’m not talking about miracles. Miracles are a burden for a tzaddik, not the proof of one. Miracles prove nothing except to those whose faith is bought very cheap, sir. There was something in Mendele. There was a fire.”