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“Progress is inconspicuous, the world often perceptually still. Ours is a slow march toward something we will not see for ourselves. We plant the seeds; our daughters reap the fruit.”

“…but now Mia is missing and every minute of every day feels like watching a pot that refuses to boil.”

“I need to go home, but a drink will do.”

“Skull and bones on the hat. Four pips on the collar. He took his raincoat off before coming over to make sure we noticed. This one is a Sturmbannführer, a major, maybe. Someone important for about two hundred feet, the the store manager at the local Woolworth’s.”

Sick burn, Sylvian.

“I doubt he could have stopped any of it, but we’ll never know because he didn’t try.”

“Seventeen million lives later, the war was over, everyone’s honor intact.”

Indulgent and torturous. Maybe perfect?