“Simon remembered a rhyme his mother used to recite to him, about magpies. You were supposed to count them and say: one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that's never been told. "Right," simon said. He had already lost count of the numbers of birds there were. Seven, he guessed. A secret that's never been told. Whatever that was.”

“One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that's never been told. ~ Simon”

“He paused until she locked eyes with him. “Count, Livia. Count out loud when you come for me.”“Two, oh, three, God, oh, God.”“Screw the biting. Just please, just more,” she begged.“Biting is next,” he said.By the time he was nibbling circles, she was counting again. “Four—your hands, use your hands.”“Five…six…seven. I’m never going to stop…” She was almost panicked in her frenzy.”

“I walked into a bakery seven years later and there he was. He had dogs at his feet and a bird in a cage beside him. The seven years were not seven years. They were not seven hundred years. Their length could not be measured in years, just as an ocean could not explain the distance we had traveled, just as the dead can never be counted. I wanted to run away from him, and I wanted to go right up to him.”

“He told me that in 1886 he had invented an original system of numbering and that in a very few days he had gone beyond the twenty-four-thousand mark. He had not written it down, since anything he thought of once would never be lost to him. His first stimulus was, I think, his discomfort at the fact that the famous thirty-three gauchos of Uruguayan history should require two signs and two words, in place of a single word and a single sign. He then applied this absurd principle to the other numbers. In place of seven thousand thirteen he would say (for example) Maximo Pérez; in place of seven thousand fourteen, The Railroad; other numbers were Luis Melián Lafinur, Olimar, sulphur, the reins, the whale, the gas, the caldron, Napoleon, Agustin de Vedia. In place of five hundred, he would say nine. Each word had a particular sign, a kind of mark; the last in the series were very complicated...”

“I think Mr. Hawk forgot that he told us to count all our lightbulbs. Because a few days after he told us to do that, he never asked how many lightbulbs we had. But that was okay. Because I kept forgetting to count them anyway. So if he asked, I was going to have to make up a number and say that my house had one thousand three hundred seventy-six lightbulbs. Because I didn't want to look poor.”