“She's read every word I've written," he said. "That's the truest way to know someone's heart.”

“She was a believer, you know," the Captain said. "My wife. She thought socialism was the only thing that would make us strong again. There would be a difficult period, she always said, some sacrifices. And then things would be better. I didn't think I would miss that, you know. I didn't realize how much I needed someone to keep telling me why.”

“You can't leave me. I'm your captive," she said. "What good's a captive without her captor?”

“Today, tomorrow," she said. "A day is nothing. A day is just a match you strike after the ten thousand matches before it have gone out.”

“Writing is hard work, and if anything's true about the process, it's that fact that a good story is hard to find and even trickier to get on paper. What's less romantic than staring alone at a blank screen? And edgy? I've changed the cat little because I didn't know what my characters were going to say next.”

“. . . nobody every taught you loyalty . . .”

“The next day, she was silent. For breakfast, she murdered an onion and served it raw.”