“Tell me,' I said. 'Tell me when you notice me.'I notice you going into church,' Joshua said. 'I notice your hair, how blond it is. But how in some light it looks like it has red in it. I notice the way you smell when we're close. And the way you walk when we're headed home from church and your family gets out of the Temple first. I notice how you are with your family and how you hold your little sisters. I've seen you stand out on your doorstep and look across the desert. I've watched you walk toward the Compound fence and then on past that. You've been walking for years.”
“I'm my mother's first child, born when she was almost fourteen years old."Think of it," I said to Laura when I turned twelve. "I'm almost Mother Sarah's age when she was married."Laura looked at me, her squinty eyes even more narrowed. "You could have your own old man as a husband," she said."Shut up," I had said.And she had laughed.”
“How can you tell? That I like books, I mean.The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.”
“When you die, you’ll be wearing your white dress with red roses, and your hair will be long and falling around your shoulders. When they shoot you, up on your damn roof or walking alone on the street, your blood will look like another red rose on your dress, and no one will notice, not even you when you bleed out for Mother Russia.”
“Do you believe in Jesus?Jesse looks at me so brown-eyed it hurts.He nods."I do," he says.I sit up."I think you look like him.”
“I think what you notice most when you haven’t been home in a while is how much the trees have grown around your memories.”
“So here's the truth - I love you. I love everything about you – the way you stick up for people even when it costs you. The way you keep trying to do the right thing even when you're not exactly sure what the right thing is. I love how you put words together. You're as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. You can put an enemy down on his back, or you can raise people up so they find what's best in themselves. You've changed my life. You've given me the words I need to become whatever I want.I love how you talk to lytlings. You don't talk down to them. You respect them, and anybody can tell you're actually interested in what they have to say.I love the way you ride a horse – how you stick there like an upland thistle, whooping like a Demonai. I love the way you throw back your head and stomp your feet when you dance. I love how you go after what you want – whether it's kisses or a queendom.I love your skin, like copper dusted over with gold. And your eyes – they're the color of a forest lake shaded by evergreens. One of the secret places that only the Demonai know about.I love the scent of you – when you've been out in the fresh air, and that perfume you put behind your ears sometimes.Believe it or not, I even love your road smell – of sweat and horses and leather and wool.I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life.”