“I read a lot. I love books. If they came in a bottle, I'd be a drunk too.”

“Are you serious about leaving?"I touched my aching face. "Yes.But I don't know how.""I'd go with you," Colin said quietly."Really?""You know I would.""If you could do anything, what would you do? Would you go back to Ireland?""Maybe," he said. "I've no family left there but I miss the green hills. I'd love to show them to you, show you Tara and the Cliffs of Moher.We could live in a thatched cottage and keep sheep."I grinned at him. "If you clean up after them.""What would be your perfect day then?" he asked, grinning back at me. "If you don't like my sheep?""Your cottage sounds nice," I allowed. "I'd like to sleep in late and read as many books as I'd like and drink tea with lemon and eat pineapple slices for breakfast.""No velvet dresses and diamonds?"I rolled my eyes, then stopped when the bruises throbbed. "Ouch.And no, of course not.I don't care about that. Only books." I looked at him shyly. "And you.""That's all right then," he said softly.”

“I knew damn well if Lucy broke up with me I'd still love her until I turned to dust.”

“I love you, too,' he whispered, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. I grinned back, then kissed him until I felt light-headed and breathless.”

“I hadn't had a chance to read an entire novel in weeks.Whatever the others might say about politics, civil war, and hunters, the real evil was lack of reading time. If they all read more they might freak out less. And if I was going to live forever I was going to have to start a reading list.”

“I couldn't convince her that if I had a book with me, I wasn't lonely.”

“If I'd been ten years old again I'd have stuck my tongue out at Caroline. At sixteen, I ought to be above such behavior.I wasn't.”