What kind of tragically limited vision could pore over creatures like these and not be drawn to contemplate Something or Someone or Some Realm Beyond?...Which brings me to possibly the best passage in the book:
"Once, at the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard, I stood gazing up at a rearing reconstructed skeleton of an extinct giant sloth when a woman arrived with her three- or four-year-old son. "Oh, God!" she said looking up at the claws and the massive head. There was a short silence. Her son took his his fingers out of his mouth--'Is that God?' he asked.