“As flowerlets drooped and puckered in the night turn up to the returning sun and spread their petals wide on his new warmth and light-just so my wilted spirits rose again and such a heat of zeal surged through my veins that I was born anew.”

“The bud of a rose grows in darkness. It knows nothing of the sun, yet it pushes at the darkness that confines it until at last the walls give way and the rose bursts forth, spreading its petals into the light. I love him.”

“Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”

“He snuggled her up against his chest, let his warmth surround her. "This is my favorite time of day. Just before the sun starts to rise. Before there is any hint of daylight. The stars always seem their brightest now, as if they know they only have another hour or so of life. For in that time they'll all be gone from sight, lost to the sun, and hidden away until night claims the world anew. So they shine their brightest while the world still sleeps.”

“Nobody told me love was warm. Such warmth - I seemed to remember it, it seemed like something forgotten by me since I was born. All the fires are here, and the warmth of my mother’s bed long ago and the deep heat of the sun.”

“My senses flood with feeling, so intense, and then I'm cradled in warmth. The heat stems from my hand and spreads through my body. I look down and lace my fingers through his. He strokes my jawline, lifting my face to meet his emerald eyes-clear and vibrant-like time never passed between us. "You're home," he says, his voice stirring all my love."You're my home.”