They waited, none of them entirely convinced that the old man wouldn't appear before them again like the ghost of Hamlet's father or Jacob Marley or some other...

People in the countryside carry a sense of dignity. They wear it, don't they? Like a badge? I'm being genuine.

I spent every day just praying that I didn&#39;t look like a big dork on camera.

A man dressed in a radiant white uniform stands below the ragged maw of the jetway holding his hands downwards with fluorescent orange sticks in them, like Christ dispensing mercy on a world of sinners.

Written By Neal Stephenson

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