The Lost Symbol (Robert Langdon, #3)

by Dan Brown

To live in the world without becoming aware of the meaning of the world is like wandering about in a great library without touching the books.

Langdon occasionally ribbed Peter that the lone tarnish on his sterling pedigree was his diploma from a second-rate university—Yale.

Langdon smiled. “Sorry, but the word occult, despite conjuring images of devil worship, actually means ‘hidden’ or ‘obscured.’ In times of religious oppression, knowledge that was counterdoctrinal had to be kept hidden or ‘occult,’

Masonry is a system of morality, veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols.”

Every generation’s breakthroughs are proven false by the next generation’s technology. And so it had gone through the ages. The more man learned, the more he realized he did not know.

“Living consciousness somehow is the influence that turns the possibility of something into something real. The most essential ingredient in creating our universe is the consciousness that observes it.”

Wide acceptance of an idea is not proof of its validity.

“In the words of futurist Arthur C. Clarke, ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ ”

Langdon had once agreed to take care of Solomon’s hundred-fifty-pound mastiff, Hercules, during Solomon’s travels. While at Langdon’s home, the dog apparently had become homesick for his favorite leather chew toy and had located a worthy substitute in Langdon’s study—an original vellum, hand-calligraphed, illuminated Bible from the 1600s. Somehow “bad dog” didn’t quite seem adequate.

“You know, I’m still searching for a replacement,” Solomon said, smiling sheepishly. “Forget it. I’m glad Hercules got a taste of religion.”

“this story falls into a category we symbologists call an ‘archetypal hybrid’—a blend of other classic legends, borrowing so many elements from popular mythology that it could only be a fictional construct . . . not historical fact.”

I hold the final piece. And it is indeed . . . a talisman.

“You owe me a manuscript, Robert. Do you have any idea how long—” The line went dead. Faukman stared at the receiver and shook his head. Book publishing would be so much easier without the authors.

for Sato to suggest that a Masonic cipher was an issue of national security was like her suggesting our nuclear launch codes were encrypted with a Cracker Jack decoder ring.

Gold resists the entropic laws of decay; that’s one of the reasons the ancients considered it magical.

‘That which is impenetrable to us really exists. Behind the secrets of nature remains something subtle, intangible, and inexplicable. Veneration for this force beyond anything that we can comprehend is my religion.’ ” “Who said that?” Langdon said. “Gandhi?” “No,” Katherine interjected. “Albert Einstein.”

The religion of the future, Einstein had predicted, will be a cosmic religion. It will transcend personal God and avoid dogma and theology.

“Respectfully, sir,” Langdon interceded, “I can’t imagine how a stone pyramid could set in motion anything at all.” “Of course you can’t, Professor.” The old man stared blindly through him. “You do not yet have eyes to see.”

From the Crusades, to the Inquisition, to American politics—the name Jesus had been hijacked as an ally in all kinds of power struggles. Since the beginning of time, the ignorant had always screamed the loudest, herding the unsuspecting masses and forcing them to do their bidding. They defended their worldly desires by citing Scripture they did not understand. They celebrated their intolerance as proof of their convictions. Now, after all these years, mankind had finally managed to utterly erode everything that had once been so beautiful about Jesus.

Since the days of Michelangelo, sculptors had been hiding the flaws in their work by smearing hot wax into the cracks and then dabbing the wax with stone dust. The method was considered cheating, and therefore, any sculpture “without wax”—literally sine cera—was considered a “sincere” piece of art. The phrase stuck. To this day we still sign our letters “sincerely” as a promise that we have written “without wax” and that our words are true.

This was the death ritual—the most rigorous of all the degrees—the moment in which the initiate was forced “to face the final challenge of personal extinction.” This grueling interrogation was in fact the source of the common phrase to give someone the third degree.

Tonight was a national-security crisis . . . of unimaginable proportions.

Chaos was the natural law of the universe. Indifference was the engine of entropy. Man’s apathy was the fertile ground in which the dark spirits tended their seeds.

WHAT WE HAVE DONE FOR OURSELVES ALONE DIES WITH US; WHAT WE HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS AND THE WORLD REMAINS AND IS IMMORTAL.

“Well, the text does say your body is a temple.” “Yes, Corinthians 3:16. You are the temple of God.” She smiled at him. “And the Gospel of John says the exact same thing. Robert, the Scriptures are well aware of the power latent within us, and they are urging us to harness that power . . . urging us to build the temples of our minds.”

“I’m no Bible scholar, but I’m pretty sure the Scriptures describe in detail a physical temple that needs to be built. The structure is described as being in two parts—an outer temple called the Holy Place and an inner sanctuary called the Holy of Holies. The two parts are separated from each other by a thin veil.” Katherine grinned. “Pretty good recall for a Bible skeptic. By the way, have you ever seen an actual human brain? It’s built in two parts—an outer part called the dura mater and an inner part called the pia mater. These two parts are separated by the arachnoid—a veil of weblike tissue.” Langdon cocked his head in surprise.

“The great irony is that all the religions of the world, for centuries, have been urging their followers to embrace the concepts of faith and belief. Now science, which for centuries has derided religion as superstition, must admit that its next big frontier is quite literally the science of faith and belief . . . the power of focused conviction and intention.

God is found in the collection of Many . . . rather than in the One.