He brought his great hand to rest on an early edition of Bram Stoker's novel and smiled, but said nothing. Then he moved quietly away into another section.

These atheist cultures were certainly diligent in preserving the relics of their saints.

He can't really love anyone, you know, and in the end such people are always alone, no matter how much other people once loved them.

...History it seemed could be something entirely different a splash of blood whose agony didn't fade overnight or over centuries.

Every writer hopes his or her book will be its own thing.

I wasn't brought up to be dazzled by money or fame.

The thing that most haunted me that day, however...was the fact that these things had - apparently - actually occurred...For all his attention to my historical education, my father had neglected to tell me this: history's terrible moments were real. I understand now, decades later, that he could never have told me. Only history itself can convince you of such a truth. And once you've seen that truth - really seen it - you can't look away.