“Thirty-two's still a goddamn number
Thirty-two's still counts
Gonna make it count”

“This creature, this Baab, with his spiritual weapons, was in the end found guilty on fifty-five counts of murder, on twenty-one counts of attempted murder, on thirty counts of assault and battery, and a variety of lesser offences.”

“What’s Julie’s number?”

Curran glanced at me.

“Julie’s fluctuating between thirty-two and thirty-four units. Her shift coefficient is six point five and she’s been at it for sixteen hours.”

Dear God, I’d need a damn calculator.”

“I was thirty-seven years old and still discovering who I was.”

“The two horsewomen of the apocalypse still win, despite their dwindling numbers.”

“Size, the mere number of square inches, of a picture, counts for nothing. A small picture may be quite as satisfying as a large; for remember that, as compared with the size of the mountain itself, the difference between a picture of it, thirty inches long, and one of six inches, is less than trifling.”

“Knowing and feeling are two different things, and feeling is what counts.”

“When a man counts one, two, three, he is not only doing mathematics, he is on the path to the mysticism of numbers in Pythagoras and Vitruvius and Kepler, to the Trinity and the signs of the Zodiac.”

“Made thirty, we should make thirty-one”

“I counted two and seventy stenches,
All well defined, and several stinks.”