There's a certain satisfaction in talking about all this strangeness with someone who understands. Someone who comes from the same point of reference. Jacob had had London, in all its majesty and corruption, and Angel had seen the stars themselves from close up, but for two men from the American wilderness? All of this is just inexcusably weird.
"There was a tower in the center that you couldn't see the top of, on a cloudy day. No cobblestones, just smooth black stone...asphalt, I think they called it. And even the worst places to live had lights that came on with the flick of a switch."
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There's a certain satisfaction in talking about all this strangeness with someone who understands. Someone who comes from the same point of reference. Jacob had had London, in all its majesty and corruption, and Angel had seen the stars themselves from close up, but for two men from the American wilderness? All of this is just inexcusably weird.
"There was a tower in the center that you couldn't see the top of, on a cloudy day. No cobblestones, just smooth black stone...asphalt, I think they called it. And even the worst places to live had lights that came on with the flick of a switch."