“The monster once awakened, may go into hibernation, but he is always lurking, just beneath the polite suits and phallic ties.”

“I have had my say, as he wished. Now the book belongs, as he points out, to the world he claims to speak for.”

“I am by profession an agent and no writer, so you will have to pardon any lack of literary flourish.”

“All I ever wanted, nira I expected: Nonette, upon whom my life pivots.The name I give my fire when I lay down, defenseless before its majestic awfulness.A little no, a little negation. A French girly pout, the syllables for which have been found at last.All my hurt dug up, exposed for dissection in the glaring light, and finally melted away by the loving caresses of her yielding thighs.And the girl who took such simple job in this terrible duty.Nonette.”

“Of all the mysteries, Darius,” the old man began. “Perhaps the greatest is Mind. For all the ignorance in the world, the assaults against reason by tyrants and rabble, no one has been able to stop it. Just the opposite. All those cultures that have abandoned Mind have paid the price, lost their way and decayed, succumbing to the darkness. And yet Mind has forged ahead.”

“They are the lost books,” he turned his head, grasping his cane and raising it aloft, as if speaking more to the books than to me. “The destroyed books, the burnt books, the missing, the stolen, the drowned, the forgotten. Those ruined by water, fire, mold, man’s malice or neglect or, perchance…time itself. They’re all here, every last one, Darius. At least for a time.”

“(T)he political response to terror must always be to increase and to promote freedom. The battle is truly for hearts and minds and should be waged with all the propaganda tools available to a prosperous democracy.”