“I had risked everything, and I had nothing to show for it but my open hand, lying empty and palm up toward the ceiling.”

“He stands there, facing the largest windows, touching the glass with the open palm of his hands, feeling everything, but seeing nothing.”

“When I returned, everything was different. Everything was calm, and I felt very clean. Everything was in order. Everything was as it should be. I had a secret. It was a guilty secret, certainly. But it was MY secret. I had something to hold on to. It was company. It kept me calm. It filled me up and emptied me out.”

“Standing on the bridge, looking across at that empty city, everything in the compass of my gaze had been set there by a human hand. Somehow those pylons had been strung with wire, and those towers raised, and roofs tiled. There had been food and drink for millions of mouths. I don't cry easy, but my vision blurred as I stared on the ruins of what we had been, and I watched the small band of men in rags move toward it to pick at it like birds on the carcass of some giant.”

“Richard opened his hand, and the key stared up at him from his palm. "By my crooked teeth," asked Richard, remembering, "who am I?”

“Each night I lie awake and stare up at the stars and think, what the hell happened to my ceiling.”