“For a while Bastian stood motionless. He was so stunned by what he had just heard that he couldn't decide what to do... What he had hoped was his ruin and what he had feared his salvation.”

“It was never what he had done,but always what he could do. And he had chosen to make his living with something else instead of a pen or a pencil”

“...As with many American conversations, the words he spoke had not conveyed what he had intended by them. He could never decide if it was his English, his actual use of language, or if it was because people didn't really listen and instead put into the words they heard the words they expected to hear.”

“He knew now, and the knowledge was hard, that his task had never been to undo what he had done, but to finish what he had begun.”

“Had he not suffered unscathed the fearful dooms of all the offended gods, of all the histories, fire, brimstone, and yawning earthquakes, plague, and pestilence? Had he not stood, like the Pompeian sentry, while the Citadels of the Plain fell to ruin about his ears?”

“Gabriel Squeezed His Eyes Shut. In the distance He Heard shay Screaming His Nam. What Had he done.?The answer Slammed Into His Mind. He Had Fallen in Love with Her. It had Clouded His Judgment.He LOVED Her, HEART, SOUL, And BODY. And He Had Sentenced Her To Death.”