I'm roughly two thirds into the novel, and I came upon this interesting speech from Gail Wynand (Part three, chapter 4 pg. 447 of my PB edition): "I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window - no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body." I must say, the last two sentences in particular sent shivers down my spine. I think you all know what I'm referring to - it's almost prophetic. Not that I'm suggesting Rand was some clairvoyant, oh no. But she must have felt deep inside that the evil savages that exist in the world will one day wish to perpetrate such a heinous crime as was 9/11. I apologize if this has been discussed previously on this board.