“His forty-third year. His small time's end. His time-Who saw Infinity through the countless cracksIn the blank skin of things, and died of it.”

“In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another.”

“The year that followed - was it the happiest year of his own life? He often thought so, even knowing that such a thing was foolish to claim about any year of one's life: but in his memory, that particular year held the sweetness of a time that contained no thoughts of a beginning and no thoughts of an end..”

“More and more, he heard his spine playing stick games through his skin, singing old dusty words, the words of all his years.”

“To love God is to love His will. It is to wait quietly for life to be measured by One who knows us through and through. It is to be content with His timing and His wise appointment.”

“His eyes defiant and smoldering, Braden held his sword aimed at the MacDouglas’s throat. “To get to her, you’ll have to come through me.” “You want to die for her?” Robby asked. “Aye,” Braden said without hesitation. He glanced at her and for the first time she saw the love in his eyes. “I will die for her.”