“Through [Pennsylvania Station] one entered the city like a god. Perhaps it was really too much. One scuttles in now like a rat.”

“Okay, if this is what falling in love feels like, someone please kill me now. (Not literally, overzealous
readers.) But it was all too much—too much emotion, too much happiness, too much longing, perhaps
too much ice cream…”

“Life is too short to make just one decision, music is too loud for just one station, love is too big for just one nation, and God is too big for just one religion!”

“God knows I am not too hippy. Perhaps because I am too much around the hip and I fear fads for, like anybody else, I like something that tends to last.”

“I don’t like rats but there’s not much else I don’t like.”

“Just once, I'd like to find a boy. And I like him and he likes me. And we have a laugh and the kissing's really good and there's no-one getting in the way of the laughing and the kissing. Is that too much to ask?”

“Even if all the clocks in the station break down, thought Hugo, time won't stop. Not even if you really want it to.

Like now.”

“one had better die fighting against injustice than to die like a dog or a rat in a trap”

“Being at one is god-like and good, but human, too human, the mania
Which insists there is only the One, one country, one truth, and one way.”

“Alone. It's one of those small words that means entirely too much. Like fear. Or trust.”