“At last he came to a door, with these words in glowing emeralds: THE END OF THE WORLD He did not hesitate. He opened the door and stepped through.”

“He released her with obvious reluctance and shoved open his door, then came around to open her door. His chivalry brought an even broader smile. "Bet this doesn't last long", she teased. He took her hand. "You keep waiting for me to open it, and I will keep coming around.”

“I can hear my steps echo as I follow him to the end of the hall. The door to the small closet under the steps is standing ajar. He closes the door and latches it.”

“When he opens the door, I step in and an army of memories comes at me from all sides.”

“Nice to know a few things aren't in the government's files,' he said, opening the front door and stepping out ahead of her. The human courtesy of waiting for the woman to go through a door was all flourish, no sense. If any danger waited on the other side of a door, he'd rather meet it himself, not send her into it.”

“He went through rooms he named as he discovered them, and which he hardly had time to appreciate before he'd flung open a door at the far end and plunged through. . . . and in the Library of All the Same Book he actually stopped to examine a few of the volumes, all titled Various, that lined the shelves.”