“There were no larks anymore. There was only the setting sun spreading blood up the sky and the yowl of hounds on a breast-high scent.”

“But you have gone now, all of you that were so beautiful when you were quick with life. Yet not gone, for you are still a living truth inside my mind. So how are you dead, my brothers and sisters, and all of you , when you live with me as surely as I live with myself.”

“I wonder is happiness only an essence of good living, that you shall taste only once or twice while you live, and then go on living with the taste in your mouth, and wishing you had the fullness of it solid between your teeth, like a good meal that you have tasted and cherished and look back in your mind to eat again.”

“Men lose their birthrights for a mess of pottage only if they stop using the gifts given them by God for their betterment. By prayer. That is the first and greatest gift. Use the gift of prayer. Ask for strength of mind, and a clear vision. Then sense. Use your sense. … Think long and well. By prayer and good thought you will conquer all enemies.”

“Ianto Jones was at his station behind the run-down Tourist Information Centre that served at a front to the clandestine goings on in Torchwood. His bare feet were on his desk, his tie slumped like a crestfallen snake next to an open pizza box, the top two buttons of his shirt undone."Taking it easy, I see?" said Jack, stepping out through the security door that led into the Hub itself. "Well at least someone has the right idea. Whatcha doing there, Sport?""Sport?" said Ianto. "Not sure I like 'Sport' as a term of endearment. 'Sexy is good, if unimaginative. 'Pumpkin' is a bit much, but 'Sport'? No. You'll have to think of another one."Okay, Tiger Pants. Whatcha doing?"Ianto laughed."I..." he said, pausing to swallow a mouthful of pizza, "am having a James Bondathon.""A what?""A James Bondathon. I'm watching my favourite James Bond films in chronological order.""You're a Bond fan?""Oh yes. He's the archetypal male fantasy, isn't he? The man all women want to have, and all men want to be.""Are you sure it's not the other way around?”

“Everywhere was singing, all over the house was singing, and outside the house was alive with singing, and the very air was song.”

“And under my breath I was telling it to hisht and for shame, and if I had known any swearing I would have had that in, too.”