The Unseen World Quotes
"The light that day was the color of honey or of a roan horse, any warm organic thing like that, coming through the leaves of the tree outside the window in handsome dapples, lighting parts of the countertop generously, leaving others blue."
"Ibn Sahl," he said to her. "It was the genius Ibn Sahl."
"He wanted it all to be simultaneously precise and beautiful. He wanted it all to work."
"A well-rounded thinker should be able to puzzle out from scratch any proof that has ever been proven."
"Her world revolved entirely around her father, and any disturbance in this orbit threatened to send her spinning into space."
"My God, of course you do." She looked around at the rest of the group entreatingly. "The traveler would point to either of the villagers and ask the other one, ‘Which way would he tell me to go to get to the cache of gold?’ And either man would say, ‘East.’"
"The best pure thinker in the group," he said of her often, including himself in the tally.
"Her father in his laboratory, or at Tran’s Restaurant; or in the library of the institute that employed him; or, rarely, in a crowd of friends; or, regularly, at his desk, in his small absurd office in their home, contemplating a chessboard, his head as bald and round and sturdy as a pawn’s."
"It was her father in his laboratory, or at Tran’s Restaurant; or in the library of the institute that employed him; or, rarely, in a crowd of friends; or, regularly, at his desk, in his small absurd office in their home, contemplating a chessboard, his head as bald and round and sturdy as a pawn’s. His woolen socks with holes in them. His hands the steeple of a church."
"Sometimes I still think I should have sent you to public school," he said. "But Liston knows best, I suppose."
"I’m really sorry," said Ada, not knowing what else to say.
"How was your first day?" The other boys looked at her or away.
"Don’t take them too seriously," he said finally. "Don’t take anything too much to heart, Ada. All right?"
"We’re glad you’re here," she said, and it made Ada buckle for reasons she couldn’t explain.
"That idiot," David said, anytime his name was raised.
"Good grief," said David. "What’s the matter, Ada?"
"I’m perfectly all right, Ada," he said, in response to any line of questioning about his memory or emotional state.
"Are you hungry?" Liston asked, and she nodded.
"My father, David Sibelius, is retiring after nearly 30 years of running the Steiner Laboratory."
"If there was one thing David hated, she knew, it was sentimentality."
"I'll just miss having you here, that's all. Both of you."
"She wondered if this was what David felt like all the time."
"The naming of these qualities was, to Ada, only a cruel reminder of their recent disappearance."
"It's for you, the dinner is for you. We can't leave yet."
"I think it quite possible that our paths may cross again someday, whatever that may look like."
"She turned on her computer, pulled ELIXIR up to have a talk."
"At last, some free time. I've been meaning to get to this for years."
"It seems likely that your father was not a Sibelius."
"Are you all right, Ada?" said Miss Holmes, looking concerned.
"Tell you what," said Miss Holmes kindly. "Just sit right here a moment. I’ll be right back."
"I don’t know," said Ada. "It might be a picture of his real family."
"Now, dear," she said. "What can I help you with?"
"I’ll be right back," She gestured to a low table.
"Oh, Ada," she said, when Ada had finished speaking.
"Where would you like to begin?" asked Miss Holmes.
"I’m afraid I have to go home now, dear," she said.
"I think you’re probably smarter than anyone I’ve ever met."
"I’m okay," said Ada. "I don’t know, sir," said Harold.
"I’ll never tell him," said Susan. "He’ll kill me. Do you understand? He’ll actually kill me."
"I thought maybe you were smart," said Gregory. "But I was wrong. I think you’re a fucking idiot too."
"For the first time, Harold saw him with a clear, impartial eye: he recognized the narcissism that made his father thrill at the concern, the condolences, proffered by his congregation."
"Her absence made it clear to him that she had been the only tolerable part of his existence."
"He grew mute and tidy and invisible. He did not speak unless spoken to: not to his parents, not to his friends."
"In his spare time he worked through every famous math problem that had ever been solved, following the steps that had been taken already when he could not unravel it himself, studying it until he felt he understood."
"Ada paused briefly on Liston’s porch, closing her eyes, making a wish that nobody would be home."
"I would like to apologize," he said formally.
"That’s not how it works, Ada wanted to say. You wait and see."
"She had crossed a bridge that had collapsed behind her, suddenly, without warning."
"A chef," Harold continued, enjoying himself now. But he knew that he would not be happy. His work made him happy; it was the only thing that ever had.
"You need my name more than I do," said George.
"I’ll go by David, I think," said Harold. "As added protection."
"Are you going to call your mother?" asked George, the night before they enacted their plan.
"Happy birthday, David Sibelius. Glad I’m not you anymore," said George.
"I hope we can continue to be friends," said George in the letter.
"I’m surrogating myself," she had said, using the word inventively.
"She’s incredible, David," said Liston, expertly cradling the baby in her arms.
"We’re old friends. Do you happen to have his new number?"
"I’ve got it," said George, waving a languid hand before his body, as if to indicate, all of it.
"I’m sick, too," David could say, but what use would that be? It was different.