“It is never ridicule, but a compliment, that knocks a philosopher off his feet. He is already positioned for every possible counter-attack, counter-argument, and retort...only to find a big bear hug coming his way.”

“Meanwhile, he would continue to play the big, friendly dog. He sat by the counter. Grinned. Wagged his tail.”

“The guy behind the counter scratches his neck. “Are you being serious?” Her face is stoic. “Absolutely. I never kid about teddy bears.”

“In the philosophical dialect, a cynic takes an insult as a compliment since opposition is already his style.”

“Orsini did not wait for compliments. Reserve is best countered by reserve.”

“Perhaps talk of counters turned the boy’s thoughts to his father’s glove shop. His father would have accounted for all his transactions using the tokens. They were hard and round and very thin, made of copper or brass. There were counters for one pair of gloves, and for two pairs, and three and four and five. But there was no counter for zero. No counters existed for all the sales that his father did not close.”