“There's something different about you," he says."I've started styling my hair differently," I laugh."Oh. I thought it was that you were three feet taller, a hell of a lot broader, look like a werewolf, and are naked expect for that bit of cloth around your waist. But you're right - it's the hair.”

“I crossed the room, and what you did was to feel my hair over and over again and in different ways, touch it, with the palm of your hand... felt it, strands of hair, with your fingers, touched it as if it were cloth, the way a child touches its favorite surfaces.”

“My dad said to me a few years ago: "There's no harm in thinking." We were talking about Crazy Uncle Albert and whether it was right to use your brain to build weapons.He said, "You can't expect people not to think. Not to know things just because they COULD be bad."I said, "Yeah, but then they built it and a hundred thousand people died."My dad laughed and said there were a lot of steps between the thinking and the doing.Which I know, duh. All I was saying is that when you think of doing something, you don't always know the consequences. For a while people THOUGHT about building the bomb, but nothing happened. In the end it was a lot of different people doing a lot of different things, most of which had nothing to do with the bomb, that did make it happen.I think about that sometimes. Who was the person who had the first thought, the one that started it all?And after they had the thought, what was the first thing they did?I know my uncle never thought, Hey, all this great science- one day I'll use it to kill a whole bunch of people. You just look at his picture; he's not that kind of person.And yet, I guess in a way he sort of is.”

“Oh my God. I thought I was going to have an aneurysm right there in line. Your hair smells really good? Your hair smells really good? Who did he think he was? James Bond? You don't tell someone their hair smells good. Not in a mall.”

“What were you dreaming about?""You." He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "I always dream about you.""Oh, yeah? Because I thought you were having a nightmare."He tipped his head back to look at her. "Sometimes I dream you're gone," he said. "I keep wondering when you'll figure out how much better you could do and leave me.”

“I stay in bed for as long as possible, but eventually my bladder wins. When I come back from the bathroom, he's looking out my window. He turns around and laughs. "Your hair. It's sticking up in all different directions." St. Clair pronounces it die-rections and illustrates his point by poking his fingers up around his head like antlers."You're one to speak.""Ah,but it looks purposeful on me. Took me ages to realize the best way to get that mussed look was to ignore it completely.""So you're saying it looks like crap on me?" I glance in the mirror,and I'm alarmed to discover I do resemble a horned beast."No.I like it.”