“Creedless shells of men tottering down the causeways like migrants in a feverland.”

“That is our Shield Ring, our last stronghold; not the barrier fells and the totter-moss between, but something in the hearts of men.”

“For there is no friend like a sisterIn calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, To fetch one if one goes astray,To lift one if one totters down, To strengthen whilst one stands”

“The immappable world of our journey. A pass in the mountains. A bloodstained stone. The marks of steel upon it. Names carved in the corrosible lime among stone fishes and ancient shells. Things dimmed and dimming. The dry sea floor. The tools of migrant hunters. The dreams encased upon the blades of them. The peregrine bones of a prophet. The silence. The gradual extinction of rain. The coming of night.”

“It would be pointless to deny that some crime in Australia is linked to migrant communities. A factor here is that many migrants come from countries where the government trusts none of its citizens to tell the truth and demands proof for everything. The Australian system, where the authorities generally assume that a citizen is telling the truth, but provides penalties if they are then caught lying, tempts some migrants into illegal acts...”

“Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.”