- The pair of stone statues of hae’tae?mythological, fire-eating creatures on display in front of the main gates to Gyeongbokgung Palace?appeared to be on guard for the night shift.
The monstrous beasts were depicted with a muscular, thick body covered in scales, like a cross between a lion and a rhino, its signature and identifying element the subtle, Cheshire Cat-like smile always on its face, which made it simultaneously intimidating and endearing.

- Of the prehistoric landscape of ancient Korea, with rolling green hills, streams of water, and megalithic dolmens stacked like tables: two or three tall pillars of stone atop of which lay a huge horizontal boulder. The tiny “fire-bird” sparks from the pojangmacha’s burner moved through this atmosphere?but now they were flame-like butterflies, lovely and delicate.
Suddenly, shockingly, the gaping, muzzle-shaped mouth of a large creature leapt into view, snapping down on a bunch of butterflies?dispersing them.
Windy barely got a look at the fantastical animal’s face: like a combination of lion and rhino, smiling as always. It was a hae’tae.

- Windy dreamt of an old-fashioned ballroom and a masquerade ball, the kind that appear in European fairy tales, with everybody in big dresses and elegant suits and wearing Venetian-style masks. But rather than the traditional Italian Pantalone and Arlecchino, the elegant European guests wore the faces of the Hahoetal stock characters of rustic Korean folk performances. The juxtaposition was jarring. But Windy, as dreamers often do, didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. Until an elegant hand reached out to offer her the next dance, and her gaze went up the ringed fingers, the tight black sleeve, the high collar to her would-be partner’s face: the smile belonged to a hae’tae.

- The Titan saw Poet, as well. And for a moment, the sudden appearance of a visitor after millennia of solitary confinement made him smile. “What is it you want of me? Human being... You are, human, correct?”
“Yes,” answered Poet, both still in a trance and simultaneously entranced by this sudden encounter with a clearly superior being. “I am human.”
“They always wanted something,” said Prometheus, almost to himself.
Poet’s delicate awareness of this razor’s edge state of conscious started slipping in and out of the fugue state, and he was aware both of Prometheus in the Greek mythological world and Firestarter in the burning underground metro station.

- I hoped the flame could be seen from across the street, from across Seoul, from as far away as the stars and the next universe. A lamp that said what every lamp, placed in every window, has always said: come home.”