" As he looks closer at the parade of crepe myrtles down Ledwicke, the carefully tended lawns and proud homes, lived in and loved by settlers, pioneers who, a generation before Jay, had paved the way for everything he has in his life, starting with the power of protest, the example they gracefully laid, brick by brick—and as he thinks of Arlee on her knees, caring for the memorial of a girl she didn’t know—it dawns on him that he may have kept Pleasantville on his desk not for the money, his supposed way out, but for a back way in, a way back to himself. "

― Attica Locke , Pleasantville (Jay Porter, #2)