“A crafty nightrunner died of late,And found himself at Bilairy’s Gate.He stood outside and refused to knockBecause he meant to pick the lock.”

“Job found contentment and even joy, outside the context of comfort, health or stability. He understood the story was not about him, and he cared more about the story then he did about himself.”

“She did not have time to wonder about his being late. He died bent over the sidewalk sign that stood out in front of the hardware store... He had not even had time to get into the store...”

“Hey!" Caleb snapped as he realized Nick was about to lock him on the outside with their attackers. He pushed the door open and glared at him. "No man left behind."Nick scoffed. "This aint' the army, boy. It's every man for himself. Fall behind. Get eaten”

“Pick-a-lock, Pick-a-lock, you'll regret the day,When you took a mouse thief and locked him away,Silly cat, look at that, it's two for one,A thief and a warrior, by dawn will be gone.”

“As a cloud crosses the sun, silence falls on London; and falls on the mind. Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame. Where there is nothing, Peter Walsh said to himself; feeling hollowed out, utterly empty within. Clarissa refused me, he thought. He stood there thinking, Clarissa refused me.”