“Mr. Pewter led them through to a library, filled with thousands ofantiquarian books.'Impressive, eh?''Very,' said Jack. 'How did you amassall these?''Well,' said Pewter, 'You know the person who always borrowsbooks and never gives them back?''Yes...?''I'm that person.”

“He spent his life immersed in books to the cost of everything else, even personal relationships. "Friends," he'd once said, "are probably great, but I have forty thousands friends of my own already, and each of them needs my attention.”

“You are the best, most loving, supportive family anyone could ever have," I said through my sobs. "I'm so sorry if I'm a burden."They all told me not to be so bloody silly, I told them not to swear, and Landen gave me a handkerchief for my tears.”

“You see? I know where every single book used to be in the library.' She pointed to the shelf opposite. 'Over there was Catch-22, which was a hugely popular fishing book and one of a series, I believe.”

“You speak baby gibberish?' asked Jack.'Fluently. The adult-education center ran a course, and I have a lot of time on my hands.''So what did he say?''I don't know.''I thought you said you spoke gibberish?''I do. But your baby doesn't. I think he's speaking eitherpre-toddler nonsense, a form of infact burble or an obscure dialect ofgobbledygook. In any event, I can't understand a word he's saying.''Oh.”

“Librarying is a harder profession than the public realizes, he said. People think it's all rubber stamps, knowing that Dewey 521 is celestial mechanics and saying 'Try looking under fiction' sixty eight times a day.”

“Remember, Thursday, that scientific thought -- indeed, any mode of thought, whether it be religious or philosophical or anything else -- is just like the fashions that we wear -- only much longer lived. It's a little like a boy band.""Scientific thought a boy band? How do you figure that?""Well, every now and then a boy band comes along. We like it, buy the records, posters, parade them on TV, idolise them right up until --"..."-- the next boy band?" I suggested."Precisely. Aristotle was a boy band. A very good one but only number six or seven. He was the best boy band until Isaac Newton, but even Newton was transplanted by an even newer boy band. Same haircuts -- but different moves.""Einstein, right?""Right. Do you see what I'm saying?""I think so.""Good. So try and think of maybe thirty or forty boy bands past Einstein. To where we would regard Einstein as someone who glimpsed a truth, played one good chord on seven forgettable albums.""Where is this going, Dad?""I'm nearly there. Imagine a boy band so good that you never needed another boy band ever again. Can you imagine that?”