“I watched him playing with the long blades of grass, weaving them into patterns as he hummed an unfamiliar song, a waltz."What are you doing?" I asked him."I'm letting you get used to the idea of me," he said idly. "I'm pretending to be harmless. Is it working?""Until you smile," (...)”

“But, Ed! Say! Are you going to let him get away with it?""Am I going to let him get away with it!" said Mr. Cootes, annoyed by the foolish question. "Wake me up in the night and ask me!" "But what are you going to do?""Do!" said Mr. Cootes. "Do! I'll tell you what I'm going to..." He paused, and the stern resolve that shone in his face seemed to flicker. "Say, what the hell am I going do?" he went on somewhat weakly.”

“I'm going to kiss you now,' I whispered. Rhode lifted his eyes to mine. 'I was hoping you would say that,' he whispered back, and we both cracked a smile. 'Lenah,' he said, and I could feel his body heat humming off him. 'What will I do without you?'I shivered as one word travelled through me.'Live.”

“I play songs that have only the pattern of my self in them and you hum along suporting me. You are the companion to myself. The mirror with my mother'e eyes.”

“I'm never going to get used to that," he said, smiling. "Used to what?""The way I feel like I'm going to explode every time you come close. The way my head fills up with just you when you do that.”

“What do you think I'm going to do?" she asked him. "Whatever it is," he answered, "I think you'll be terrified when it happens. Don't let that stop you.”