Soon, the two of them would leave this spot. . . walk into the house and into a whole changed world. . .

The sight made her ache. How can I not touch you? she thought hopelessly, and then she was doing it, her fingers on his wrist. He didn't jump or even look at her, just stopped writing. Neither one of them moved, nothing moved, and the whole thing lasted three or four seconds at most, but when Pen took her hand away and started to breathe again, her chest hurt, as though she had been holding her breath for a very long time.

Conversationally, we were Fred and Ginger -- spin, slide, shuffle, bend.

I don’t think love is blind, true love is probably the most clear-eyed state of being there is.’‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe with true love, you see and you love anyway…

Like love was a habit you couldn't break.