In the candle's flickering light, the library's thousands of books emerged from the shadows, and for a moment Nicholas could not help admiring them again. During free time he had almost never looked up from the pages he was reading, but now he saw the books anew, from without rather than from within, and was reminded of how beautiful they were simply as objects. The geometrical wonder of them all, each book on its own and all the books together, row upon row, the infinite patterns and possibilities they presented. They were truly lovely.

Milligan! Come and tell us why you're so dreadfully glum!" ~ Constance, The Mysterious Benedict Society

The answer to this riddle has a hole in the middle, And some have been known to fall in it. In tennis it's nothing, but it can be received, And sometimes a person may win it. Though not seen or heard it may be perceived, Like princes or bees it's in clover. The answer to this riddle has a hole in the middle, And without it one cannot start over.

In other words, you are our last possible hope. You are our only hope.

Daddy, will you take me to the mill, again?

Everything is as it should be.

Was it worse for him, Reynie wondered, to have felt loved and then rejected? Or was it worse to have always felt alone?