“Perhaps that's how I should think of them, Polly thought, the troupe and Miss Snelgrove and Trot. And Sir Godfrey. Not as lost to her, but as removed to this moment in time for safekeeping.”

“Shakespeare put no children in his plays for a reason," Sir Godfrey muttered, glaring at Alf and Binnie."You're forgetting the Little Prince," Polly reminded him."Who he had the good sense to kill off in the second act," snapped Sir Godfrey.”

“She had been wrong in thinking Christ had been called up against his will to fight in a war. He didn't look - in spite of the crown of thorns - like someone making a sacrifice. Or even like someone determined to "do his bit". He looked instead like Marjorie had looked telling Polly she'd joined the Nursing Service, like Mr Humphreys had looked filling buckets with water and sand to save Saint Paul's, like Miss Laburnum had looked that day she came to Townsend Brothers with the coats. He looked like Captain Faulknor must have looked, lashing the ships together. Like Ernest Shackleton, setting out in that tiny boat across icy seas. Like Colin helping Mr Dunworthy across the wreckage.He looked ... contented. As if he was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do.Like Eileen had looked, telling Polly she'd decided to stay. Like Mike must have looked in Kent, composing engagement announcements and letters to the editor. Like I must have looked there in the rubble with Sir Godfrey, my hand pressed against his heart. Exalted. Happy.To do something for someone or something you loved - England or Shakespeare or a dog or the Hodbins or history - wasn't a sacrifice at all. Even if it cost you your freedom, your life, your youth.”

“Why do only the awful things become fads? I thought. Eye-rolling and Barbie and bread pudding. Why never chocolate cheesecake or thinking for yourself?”

“Belki bizim zamanımızın sorunu da budur Bay Dunworthy. Kurucuları Maisry, piskoposun elçisi ve Sir Bloet ne de olsa. Roche gibi kalıp yardım etmeye çalışan bütün insanlar vebaya yakalanıp öldüler.”

“Will I ever see you again? No. Do I love you? Yes, for all time.”

“I think literature totally fails when it has an agenda. - From an interview on the podcast Starship Sofa, December 2010.”