“Our living room had a clock in it that used to clear its throat before striking the hours. He is that harrumphing.”

“His hands struck her any hour of the day, like hands that strike a clock, whether early, whether late; they strike, they strike.”

“Ignatius, when he heard the clock strike, would say, "Now I have another hour to answer for." (Eph. 5:16)”

“The clock strikes off the hollow half-hours of all the life that is left to you, one by one.”

“Once upon a time there was an anachronic clock. When it struck the hours they would roll through the living room then transform themselves into beautiful silver apples hanging from the ceiling. Every time a new hour rolled through the room the others already silver would smile hanging from the ceiling so that in that room there was always a kind of gleaming twinkle and when the clock had made a complete circuit of the dial the hours already silver would let themselves fall and then the sound would be great pearls of silver laughter.”

“It's not a loup cage, you know,' I told her. 'It's a holding cell. Or safe room. or secure room. I don't think Jim ever settled on a term he could live with.''Aha. It's a loup cage.' Andrea cleared her throat. 'I touched it with my finger and it hurt. Is that in case of marital problems?”