“And what do you keep in such a pretty little box, sir? Snuff?'Oh, no! It is a great treasure of mine that I wish Lady Pole to wear tonight!' He opened the box and showed Stephen a small, white finger.”

“What are we (I ask) but puppets in a show-box? Oh, omnipotent Destiny, pull our strings gently! Dance us mercifully off our moserable little stage!”

“Hazel!” he yelled. “That box! Open it!”She hesitated, then saw the box he meant. Te label read WARNING. DO NOT OPEN. “Open it!” Leo yelled again.”

“You think Tide is better, or All?''Which has a prettier box?' I ask.'I don't want a pretty box. I want a dude box.'Uh-huh,' I deadpan. 'You want a dude box of laundry detergent.''Yes, I do.''Good luck with that.”

“That reminds me." I dug into my book bag and pulled out a white cardboard box tied with a string. "I brought these back for you."He looked at the box, then at me, before slowly reaching out. "What are they?""Poisonous snakes. Open it."Zachary untied the string. "They seem like very quiet snakes.""They're stealthy. Or maybe dead.”

“It seems to me that all the things we keep in sealed boxes are both alive and dead until we open the box, that the unobserved is both there and not.”