“Well, she's not responding to my advances," he observed more brightly than he felt, "so she must be dead." "Or she's a woman of good taste and sense.”

“At first he thought she was an ordinary woman. Well, an ordinary dead woman anyways.”

“The woman didn't taste bad, but she tasted wrong. She smelled good, but it wasn't right.”

“The connection he felt with her at that moment was mind-boggling. "No regrets," he whispered.It was more of a statement than a question but she responded with a smile, shook her head and repeated the two words he'd just spoken with as much conviction as he felt. "No regrets."~Gio~”

“...she wanted God to make sense. He doesn't. He will make no more sense to me than I will make sense to an ant.”

“She saw how he was staring at it, the bright red hue beneath her bonnet. She could not bear to see the way he was looking at her—right through her—without seeing her. He did not see a woman. He did not see Jane, the woman he had been so passionate with two days before. He saw… Jane swallowed hard and lookedaway, hating the weakness of her spirit. She was more than this, a wilting flower. She was stronger than this. But damn it, this hurt.It hurt because he was the man responsible for making her burn. For making her feel like a woman. It hurt because it had been a trick. An illusion. And it hurt most of all because he did not see her, the woman she was behind the unfashionable spectacles and garish hair.”