“I thought my fireplace dead and stirred the ashes. I burned my fingers.”

“And then you snatched me from the ashes and stirred my dreams back to life.”

“I had the whole road to myself, for no one was yet stirring, and I walked on, with a slouching, dogged gait. The gray shooting-jacket was on my back, and from the end of my brother’s rifle hung a small bundle of my clothes. My fingers worked moodily at the stock and trigger, and I thought that this indeed was the way to begin life, with a gun in your hand!”

“The Cinderella story in reverse. I only wish there were ashes in the fireplace so I could order you to sweep them out.”

“I want to make Romeo jealous! I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain.”

“Dead or not, he must taste my Sarah's ashes.”