“A man may plant a tree for a number of reasons. Perhaps he likes trees. Perhaps he wants shelter. Or perhaps he knows that someday he may need the firewood.”

“He drank, for the same reason he wrote second-rate science fiction. Not to forget but to remember, to open the past and find himself there again. He opened each bottle, began each story with the secret conviction that here was the magic drought that would restore him. But magic, like wine, needs the right conditions in order to work.”

“he is the kind of man who breakes biscuits in two and saves the other half for later”

“There was a quote he could not quite remember, something about the past being an island surrounded by time. He had missed the last boat to the island.”

“I know you,” said Maddy. “You’re -““What’s a name?” Loki grinned. “Wear it like a coat; turn it, burn it, throw it aside, and borrow another. One-Eye knows; you should ask him.”“But Loki died,” she said, shaking her head. “He died on the field at Ragnarok.”“Not quite.” He pulled a face. “You know there’s rather a lot the Oracle didn’t foretell, and old tales have a habit of getting twisted.”“But in any case, that was centuries ago,” Maddy said bewildered. “I mean - that was the End of the World, wasn’t it?”“So?” said Loki impatiently. “This isn’t the first time the world has come to an end, and it won’t be the last either.”

“He was the cleanest-cut comic-book schoolboy hero imaginable.”

“So much of his life seemed to be like this now, a blur of days without anything to define them from each other, like episodes of a soap he watched out of habit, even though none of the characters interested him.”