“If the prophet Job were to walk into the room at this moment, I could sit swapping hard-luck stories with him till bedtime.”

“If you're really tired, I could put you to sleep," he said. "Tell you a bedtime story."
She looked at him. "Are you serious?"
"I'm always serious”

“I will walk till the water checks my path,
Then sit and watch the rising clouds.”

“I could not rest, Watson, I could not sit quiet in my chair, if I thought that such a man as Professor Moriarty were walking the streets of London unchallenged.”

“They said it was a sitting-room, but I don’t know why they’d decided to confine its purpose just to sitting. Obviously, sitting was one of the things you could do in a room this size; but you could also stage operas, hold cycling races, and have an absolutely cracking game of frisbee, all at the same time, without having to move any of the furniture.
It could rain in a room this big.”

“I'm no prophet. My job is making windows where there were once walls.”

“If the prophets were to be elected by the "popular votes" of democracy, then no prophet could have ever been a prophet.”

“What kind of story am I going to give them next? Because that's what we are to other people, boy, we are their gossip. That's all civilization is, a giant mill grinding out gossip. And so I could be the story of the man who rode high and fell hard, and had his spirit broken and crawled off into a hole like a dog, to die as soon as he could manage it. Or I could be the story of a man who rode high and fell hard, and then got up defiant, and walked away in a new direction.”

“In the meantime, I could withdraw to my room, could hide and sleep as if I were dead”

“Making Room:
When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there'd be room for him to stay.”