“He was inspired, and yet he wants books!He had been preaching for thirty years, and yet he wants books!He had seen the Lord, and yet he wants books!He had a wider experience than most men do, and yet he wants books!He had been caught up into the third heaven, and had heard things that it was not lawful for a man to utter, and yet he wants books!He had written a major part of the New Testament, and yet he wants books!”

“He felt overwelmed when he thought of all the books he hadn't read, all the books he wanted to read, and all the books he would want to read. Not to mention all the books that he hadn't heard of.Those dismayed him the most.”

“He was himself a case in point, and perhaps not a rare one, for his spirit, it seemed, had been burned out of him but he was yet walking.”

“[...] he made it a rule never to touch a book by any author who had not been dead at least 30 years."That's the only kind of book I can trust", he said."It's not that I don't believe in contemporary literature," he added, "but I don't want to waste valuable time reading any book that has not had the baptism of time. Life is too short.”

“And yet, he had this: the ability to make you believe in him and want to fight for him because, without any reservation, he believed in you in a way you did not yet believe in yourself.”

“The window apparently wanted only to take his thoughts back. Which was fine with him, for he had seen the metal face of the age and had been so stunned by it that when he thought into the future, all he could vision was a world from which everything he had counted important had been banished or had willingly fled.”

“Yet I felt he was innocent in a way I was not, that I knew more about evil than he ever could, because he had parents who loved him and wanted the best for him, while I had grown up with Mummy.”