“I held on to my better nature by my fingernails but I held on.”

“Though I was standing in front of a mirror, I wasn't really seeing my reflection. I was seeing, very clearly, that—at the moment—I was all in the world that Eric could think of as his own. I had better not fail him.”

“I dipped into his brain. He wasn't happy that I wasn't wearing a bra, because my boobs distracted him. He was thinking I was a bit too curvy for his taste. He was thinking he'd better not think about me that way anymore. He was missing his wife.”

“I was surprised to find out there was a direct line from my palm to my, my, hootchie.”

“I kicked off my sandals, put my ice-tinkling glass on the small table by my current book.”

“I had never realized a woman could have to struggle to keep her hands off a man, but here I was, digging my nails into my palms, staring at the inside of my eyelids as though I could maybe see through them if I peered hard enough.”

“Well, that's certainly... adequate," I told him, burying my face in his chest. I knew immediately I'd picked the wrong word."Adequate?" He took my hand, placed it on the part in question. It immediately began to stir. He moved my hand on it, and I obligingly circled it with my fingers. "This is adequate?""Maybe I should have said it's a gracious plenty?""A gracious plenty. I like that," he said.”