She never wanted to be a precious stone. She wished to be an ordinary pebble in a stream who could enjoy the simplicity of life with water cleansing her, maintaining her purity.

He has got no good red blood in his body,” said Sir James. “No. Somebody put a drop under a magnifying-glass and it was all semicolons and parentheses,” said Mrs. Cadwallader.

You're old for so much longer than you're young, she thinks. Really it hardly seems fair.

One sort of glib explanation I heard once was that Rhetors could change the past, and were glad to do it, but Incanters could change the future—and were reluctant.

Written By Neal Stephenson

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