“2 p.m. beernothing mattersbut flopping on a mattresswith cheap dreams and a beeras the leaves die and the horses dieand the landladies stare in the halls;brisk the music of pulled shades,a last man's cavein an eternity of swarmand explosion;nothing but the dripping sink,the empty bottle,euphoria,youth fenced in,stabbed and shaven,taught wordspropped upto die.”

“I have a dream!To be free at last!Free at last!Free at last.And if a man has nothing to die for,Then his life is worth nothing.”

“One of the most oft-quoted records of the siege, scribbled in pencil over the pages of a pocket address book, is that kept by twelve-year-old Tanya Savicheva: 28 December 1941 at 12.30 a.m. – Zhenya died. 25 January 1942 at 3 p.m. – Granny died. 17 March at 5 a.m. – Lyoka died. 13 April at 2 a.m. – Uncle Vasya died. 10 May at 4 p.m. – Uncle Lyosha died. 13 May at 7.30 a.m. – Mama died. The Savichevs are dead. Everyone is dead. Only Tanya is left.”

“Oh well, it’s over for you. Call the code at 2:03 p.m.”My eyes widened in shock. “That’s what they say when someone dies.”“Exactly.” He nodded. “Woman have fallen in love with me after staring like that for only thirty seconds andI think you just took a full minute. You’re doomed.”

“It's the same with men as with horses and dogs, nothing wants to die.”

“and if a double-decker buscrashes into usto die by your sideis such a heavenly way to dieand if a ten ton truckkills the both of usto die by your sidewell the pleasure, the privilege is mine”