“But that initial, comet-blazing-across-the-sky, Big Idea is only the beginning. Each book is composed of a mosaic of thousands of little ideas, ideas that invariably come to me at two in the morning when my alarm is set for seven.”

“Good Gad! It looks like the last act of Hamlet in here. Turnip banged his head against his clenched fists, making inarticulate moaning noises.Pinchingdale gave him an odd look. 'I had no idea you felt so strongly about the play, Fitzhugh.”

“Why was it that cheering expressions were invariably so infuriating?”

“Hard to believe that so nearby, just across the Channel, such atrocities could still occur in their supposedly civilized world, that one could wake up one morning and find oneself bereft of brothers, parents, friends, all with the slice of an ax.”

“Patience is only a virtue when there is something worth waiting for.”

“Old books exert a strange fascination for me -- their smell, their feel, their history; wondering who might have owned them, how they lived, what they felt.”

“Right now, I couldn't have cared less if someone had waltzed across the room in a large flower costume with a sign saying GET YOUR BLACK TULIPS HERE. Every nerve in my body was on man-alert, screaming, "incoming!”