“Dear sir, Mr. B.J. Thing... er... we the people of Britain are fed up with being bombed. We had enough of it last time with old Hitler so will you just leave us in peace, you live your life and we'll live ours, hope you are well... please don't drop any bombs.Yours sincerely, Mr. and Mrs. J. Bloggs”

“And certain things around us will change, become easier or harder, one thing or the other, but nothing will ever really be any different. I believe that. We have made our decisions, our lives have been set in motion, and they will go on and on until they stop. But if that is true, then what? I mean, what if you believe that, but you keep it covered up, until one day something happens that should change something, but then you see nothing is going to change after all. What then? Meanwhile, the people around you continue to talk and act as if you were the same person as yesterday, or last night, or five minutes before, but you are really undergoing a crisis, your heart feels damaged…”

“We knew our days were numbered. We had fouled up our lives and we were getting ready for a shake-up.”

“I must break out......start a new life...been here for years...might be getting into a rut...something a bit more exciting...more adventurous...something with more of a challenge...There's not much opportunity for self-advancement in toilets...”

“Try to live your life the way you wish other people would live theirs.”

“Being a copper I like to see the law win. I'd like to see the flashy well-dressed mugs like Eddie Mars spoiling their manicures in the rock quarry at Folsom, alongside of the poor little slum-bred guys that got knocked over on their first caper amd never had a break since. That's what I'd like. You and me both lived too long to think I'm likely to see it happen. Not in this town, not in any town half this size, in any part of this wide, green and beautiful U.S.A. We just don't run our country that way.”

“When is the last time you were a tourist?” she asked archly.He just looked at her. Charles, she had to agree, was not tourist material.“Right,” Anna told him. “Buck up. You might even enjoy it.”“You might as well have ‘hapless victim’ tattooed across your forehead,” he muttered.”