“No one is fine on his own. People just say they are.”

“People die', she says. 'People tear down houses. But furniture, fine, beautiful furniture, it just goes on and on, surviving everything.' She says, 'Armoires are the cockroaches of our culture.”

“I was glad to be rid of him. He was one of those people who could go to New York and be "fascinating," but here in his own world he was just a cheap functionary, and a dull one at that.”

“But...you could have whatever you wished.""Exactly," he says, nuzzling my neck."But," I say, "you could turn stones to rubies or ride in a fine gentleman's carriage."Kartik puts his hands on either side of my face. "To each his own magic," he says and kisses me again.”

“Remember that, so that next time you can just agree with whatever I say and we’ll be fine.” Though he didn’t open his eyes, one corner of his mouth curled, ever so slightly. It was what I was hoping for. For a moment, the barriers had crumbled and we were all right again.”

“These were his people--a strange thought. Maybe not his very own people, as in father, mother, brother, sister, but people just like him. He was lost but not so lost after all.”