“It's interesting to speculate on the reasons that make men so anxious to debase themselves. As in that idea of feeling small before nature. It's not a bromide, it's practically an institution. Have you noticed how self-righteous a man sounds when he tells you about it? Look, he seems to say, I'm so glad to be a pygmy, that's how virtuous I am. Have you heard with what delight people quote some great celebrity who's proclaimed that he's not so great when he looks at Niagara Falls? It's as if they were smacking their lips in sheer glee that their best is dust before the brute force of an earthquake. As if they were sprawling on all fours, rubbing their foreheads in the mud to the majesty of a hurricane. But that's not the spirit that leashed fire, steam, electricity, that crossed oceans in sailing sloops, that built airplanes and dams...and skyscrapers. What is it they fear? What is they hate so much, those who love to crawl? And why?”

“Some men there were who know how to look at a lady, and make her feel she'd been seen. Or perhaps there was no question of knowing how. Some men just looked at ladies that way. [...] Tell me what absorbs you so, such a man might say. I wonder at your thoughts. He might even guess. It's to do with cards, isn't it?”

“It's hard loving those who don't much like themselves: "If you're so great, why would you think I'm so great.”

“So, have we solved the secret of happiness?"I believe so," he saidAre you going to tell me?"Yes.Ready?"Ready."Be satisfied."That's it?"Be greatful."That's it?"For what you have.For the love you receive.And for what God has given you."That's it?He looked me in the eye.Then he sighed deeply."That's it.”

“It's not the right word, Eva," he pressed on stubbornly, his lips at my ear. "That's why I haven't said it. It's not the right word for you and what I feel for you.""Shut up. If you care about me at all, you'll just shut up and go away.""I've been loved before--by Corinne, by other women...But what the hell do they know about me? What the hell are they in love with when they don't know how fucked up I am? If that's love, it's nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

“That's what I love about fire, how it would kill me as quick as anybody else. How it can't know I'm its mother. It's so beautiful and powerful and beyond feeling anything for anybody, that's what I love about fire.”