“All in a moment Hurlow forgot the beauty of the sounds and smelt fear. He smelt it as an animal smells it, the breath cold in his nostrils. He had read about Pan, a dead god who might safely be patronized while poring over a book in a London lodging, but here and at this hour a god not to be scorned. ("Furze Hollow")”

“The strangest experiences in life are apt to lose their effect if dwelt upon long enough. ("Furze Hollow")”

“Something like panic struck at Hurlow. Moffat's calm confession of fear withdrew the prop upon which he had leaned. Down there, among the motionless shadows, lurked invisible things, things that were nameless, shapeless and malignant; things which could see without being seen. One of the long lost terrors of childhood returned to him, and like a child he put his hand into Moffat's.”

“The sweet-smelling aroma of the island spices still hung in the air. It filled his nostrils and titillated his appetite all over again. His appetite drove him mad for something much more than food.”

“That which cannot be smelt by the breath, but by which the breath smells an object—That alone know as Brahman and not that which people here worship.”

“Ara. Ara, stop.” He propped my body against the wall and unfastened my hands from his neck.“Why? What's wrong?” I wiped my mouth dry with the back of my wrist. “Did I hurt you?”“Yes, you little leech.” He cupped his hand over the bite mark and pulled it away to look at it. “I may not have a heartbeat, but I still feel pain.”“You're bruising.” I squinted through the dull light to see his neck.“I know. I can feel that.”“I'm sorry.”“Are you kidding me?” He looked up at me. “Ara, that felt amazing. It hurt, but damn it was hard for me to control myself.”“Control yourself?”“Yeah. I wanted to...” He looked down and shook his head.“You wanted to what?” I lifted his face.“I wanted to do...things to you.”“What kinds of...things.” Excitement and fear made my heart thump. “Bad things?”“Yes. Bad things.” He reached up slowly and slipped the shoestring strap of my dress down my shoulder, then ran a delicate line of kisses along the curve of my neck, making the skin on my lower back tingle.“That doesn't feel like bad things.”“This is not what I had in mind,” he said into my shoulder.”

“curse the genetics that turn me into a lobster after one hour in the sun while everyone else gets to look like a sexy peanut.”