A Gentleman in Moscow

by Amor Towles

“A king fortifies himself with a castle,” observed the Count, “a gentleman with a desk.”

Leaning forward, Nina cupped her palms against the glass and squinted. “If only I were there and she were here,” she sighed. And there, thought the Count, was a suitable plaint for all mankind.

Here, indeed, was a formidable sentence—one that was on intimate terms with the comma, and that held the period in healthy disregard.