“We'll see if she can rise to the occasion, do what needs to be done.""We'll see if she can manage not to kill her Liege and Master, especially if he continues talking about her like she's not in the room.”

“We'll see how the sky catches fire. We'll see how she feeds the flames with her implacable hate.”

“We'll just forget about this little conversation, shall we? The last bit that is."She managed to stretch her lips into a smile, but what she really wanted to do was hurl the brandy decanter at him.”

“I'm really sorry, Jess, but she's going to have to have your room.''My room?' exploded Jess. 'There's a perfectly good spare room upstairs!''Yes, but you see, darling, Granny can't manage stairs quite so easily anymore. Since Grandpa died and she had that fall, you know- well, her house is too much for her to manage on her own. [...] Granny has to be on the ground floor, love. She can use the groundfloor loo, and we'll convert the old coal shed at the back into a bathroom.'Jess was too furious to speak. No, wait, she wasn't. 'Where am I supposed to sleep then?' she snapped. 'Out on the pavement?”

“We'll build our own home."The promise curled around her heart, a vivid ray of sunlight. "In Manhattan?""Of course." A slow, slow smile. "What kind of mansion would you like?"Damn, but the archangel was playing with her again. The sunshine grew, filled her veins."Actually, I kind of like yours." She slid her arms around his neck. "Can I have it? Oh, and can I have Jeeves, too? I've always wanted a butler.""Yes."She blinked. "Just like that?""It's only a place.""We'll make it more," she promised, her mouth to his. "We'll make it ours.”

“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist--a master--and that is what Auguste Rodin was--can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is . . . and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be . . . and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body.”