“Then my rescuer turned to look at me and I felt his eyes reach right down into my guts and tangle them up in knots.With that look I knew I'd jumped straight from the kettle into the fire.”

“No one else should see him like that, ever. Not my Rue. And he was mine, as much as I was his. I knew that now, just from the way he looked at me after I kissed him. Everything I felt for him, every ounce of yearning and desire and need, had shone out of his eyes as he stared up at me. And I knew right then, I knew… he belonged to me.”

“I closed my eyes and let the music take over, and when I opened them, Cole was watching me. As our eyes met, he didn't look away, and he didn't try to hide where his attention was.For some reason I was determined not to look away first, and before I knew it I'd gravitated to the stage. People turned to look at me,as if the momentary bond between us was visible,and I couldn't take the attention.I finally turned away.”

“I sat up straight and looked down at my pad, and then I realized: I'd been sketching you, really. I mean, I'd drawn the lamp, and the chaos on the desk, but I'd given it your soul. I'd given that lamp your optimism, your bright face looking down on all the havoc.”

“I never take out clients. It’s bad policy.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it. Reaching across for the glove compartment, his arm accidentally brushed my leg.”

“I remember seeing one elderly man look at us, and he held his hand out, and most frightening were his eyes, dark as a soulless abyss, so black that it looked as if it had been blasted from a cyclone. I felt he was looking right at me. For a moment, I thought I was looking through his sockets, past his brain and behind him; as the tears started rolling down my cheeks a godless universe was expanding within me. Then I became hysterical.”