“Right, then.” He pointed across to a bank of phones against the wall. “If you want to check your voice mail, now’s the time.”“Where’s my phone?”“Out of service.”“It was fine in the car.”“It’s not fine now.”“What’d you do to it?”“Put it out of our misery. I’m sorry, Kate. But every minute it’s on, you’re traceable to within the length of a football field, anywhere on the planet.”

“But there were other great writers who had done all these things. What set Shakespeare apart...even from other greats, was his generosity: his invitation, even insistence,for others to join him in the act of imagining...His reticence [to add stage directions] made his works wonderfully elastic. It also made them demnding--sometimes maddeningly so--for directors and actors who had to figure out at every turn why these words and no others needed to be said right here and now. But Shakespeare was also demanding of his audiences: 'Yes,' you could almost hear him say, 'you are sitting in a fairly barren wooden theater. But dream yourselves to France. To a seacoast in Bohemia. To a magic-haunted island in a tempest-tossed sea. I dare you.' -Kate Stanley”

“If you don't want the nickname, don't live up to it.”

“An ancient mustiness padded the air, tinged with with an acrid scent-a trace of the war between paper and oxygen, played out in slow inexorable burn that would one day crumble this empire to dust." -page 62”

“That the good that we do might live on after us, while the evil lies interred with their bones.”

“Right,' said Ben. He leaned fowards, touching my (Kate) arm. 'You're sure you want to go on with this?''Are you trying to scare me?''You should be scared.''That doesn't mean I should stop.”

“I pulled away. He stopped me with a hand on my wrist. “Wait,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking.”“What?”“It’s written all over your face.” He pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”