“What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?”

“Steeply’s face had assumed the openly twisted sneering expression which he knew well Québecers found repellent on Americans. ‘But you assume it’s always choice, conscious, decision. This isn’t just a little naive, Rémy? You sit down with your little accountant’s ledger and soberly decide what to love? Always?’‘What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?’Marathe’s sniff held disdain. ‘Then in such a case your temple is self and sentiment. Then in such an instance you are a fanatic of desire, a slave to your individual subjective narrow self’s sentiments; a citizen of nothing. You become a citizen of nothing. You are by yourself and alone, kneeling to yourself.’A silence ensued this.”

“You do not choose who you love. Love just comes about. You can choose who you want or do not want to be around. But love is not a choice, it just forms on its own...”

“I've come to realize that sometimes, what you love most is what you have to fight the hardest to keep.”

“If you really do love her, don’t look away, no matter what happens. No matter what you see, no matter what you learn about her, don’t look away. Once you got her in your embrace, don’t let go. Once you decide you love someone, that’s your responsibility.”

“Know that I love you, that I always will love you no matter what choices you make, what paths you have chosen, and what paths you choose in the future.”