“As he began to drift again Jean was never sure whether he saw or did not see, a troupe of monkeys clad in blue Hussar coats piped with yellow twist, enter from a small door to swing across the great chamber and exit like nomadic wanderers into a great door emblazoned by the setting sun.”

“Monkey bar," Annabeth said. "I'm great at these." She leaped onto to the first rung and start swinging her way across. She was scared of tiny spiders, but not of plummeting to her death from a set of monkey bars. Go figure.”

“Dreams have one-way doors—the door you enter cannot be exited from, and the door you exit from cannot be used for reentry. And I just want to sell tickets to an event people will pay to sleep through.”

“He swings the knocker against the door. The entire building booms like a drum. It continues booming after he lets go, banging like a clock striking the hour, rattling like a great tin drum.”

“He tries to find the exit from himself but there is no door.”

“Then instead of hurrying he was standing still, he was very tired and sweating under the heavy coat, and looking up he saw a white shining fan, spreading over the sky, like light from a door slowly opening, and he knew the moon was coming out of the clouds. Then he looked over the sea and there were islands it seemed, and then a great migration of birds thickened the air and he was in a rushing of wings, the wings beat so dark and fast round him he felt dizzy like falling and the moon disappeared. And then it was clear again, brilliant moonlight, and there, ahead, bright as day, were all the small islands, Cape Promise, and the bay of Mairangi, wide, still, unbelievably peaceful under the full moon. And then he did know where he was going.”