Being a hero, the man had observed, is largely a matter of knowing one’s cues.

I guess I was raised in a household with a lot of reverence for the physical sanctity of books. You didn't destroy books.

Josh speculated about the hypothetical contents of an imaginary porn magazine for intelligent trees that would be entitled Enthouse.

There is really no end to life's little humiliations.

It's an engrossing look at the way the flow of information shapes history-as well as a rare glimpse into the soul of the hardcore geek

As a teenager in Brooklyn Quentin had often imagined himself engaged in martial heroics, but after this he knew, as a cold immutable fact, that he would do anything necessary, sacrificing whatever or whomever he had to, to avoid risking exposure to physical violence. Shame never came into it. He embraced his new identity as a coward. He would run in the other direction. He would lie down and cry and put his arms over his head or play dead. It didn't matter what he had to do, he would do it and be glad.

The danger would be going back, or staying still. The only way out was through. The past was ruins, but the present was still in play.