You really can’t choose the people you’re going to like. - Lisa Goldstein

“It would make a good tourist attraction,” Mitchell said.
Jara looked at him oddly, and for a moment he feared he’d said the wrong thing again. Then Jara laughed. “You Americans,” he said. “That is all you think about, your tourist attractions. You are the great spectators. The other countries of the world put on their shows for you, display their ruins, their pottery, their dances and religions. And you watch. You watch because your country has no past of its own. Is that right?”
Mitchell shrugged. He had never really given it much thought.
“But you are right,” Jara said. “It would make a good tourist attraction. That would be one way we could finance the excavation.”
Ah ha, Mitchell thought. You laugh at the Americans, but when you need money for something we’re the first people you think of.

He knew that there could never be an apology enormous enough for what he had just said. He didn’t care. He was tired of people who told him what state his soul was in, André and Antonin and a few of the others who took their cue from André. He had gone through something, something so strange that even now he was not sure what it meant, but he knew he was somehow stronger for it. He would not give that up to be a follower again.

Robert, how have you been? You look good. They've been telling me a fantastic story, I don't believe a word of it…"
Robert sat down at the table next to Paul and ordered grenadine. "It's all true," he said. "Every word of it, even the parts they made up.