“Very possibly this was the night my white-knight complex, as Solange put it, would get me killed. Someone had better write a poem about it. It was only fair.”

“But I had to kill you, because the only other possible ending was us doing it, which I wasn't really emotionally ready to write about at ten.''Fair enough,' I say. 'But in the revision, I want to get some action.”

“She had reached a turning point. She no longer believed that a situation could be made better by writing a poem about it.”

“She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing in a notebook with an ink pen she dipped in a bottle. 'Never let a man stay the night,' she told me. 'Dawn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.' The night magic sounded lovely. Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after.”

“Perhaps it would have been better if he had killed me; my life is spoilt.”

“It looked as if a night of dark intent was coming, and not only a night, an age. Someone had better be prepared for rage...”