“the Devil danced all over the place in his beautiful eyes. You never knew what kind of surprise he had for you, just to make you laugh.”

“Gina was beautiful like a sunset. You see it and you think of how beautiful it is, and then it’s over and you move on. But Trista was beautiful like a song. The kind of song you play over and over and never get sick of hearing. The kind of song he wanted to write for her, but he knew he would never be able to string together the right combination of notes to show her how he really felt.”

“Yes, the laws of self-preservation and of self-destruction are equally powerful in this world. The devil will hold his empire over humanity until a limit of time which is still unknown. You laugh? You do not believe in the devil? Scepticism as to the devil is a French idea, and it is also a frivolous idea. Do you know who the devil is? Do you know his name? Although you don't know his name you make a mockery of his form, following the example of Voltaire. You sneer at his hoofs, at his tail, at his horns—all of them the produce of your imagination! In reality the devil is a great and terrible spirit, with neither hoofs, nor tail, nor horns; it is you who have endowed him with these attributes! But… he is not the question just now!”

“Martha said, "Do you have any idea of the kind of surprise your brothers are in for sooner or later? Or are you doing it on purpose?" Cord put his hat on and pulled it low, hiding his eyes. "Grown man walks around with his eyes shut tight, he shouldn't be surprised if he bumps into something he didn't see. You aren't trying to convince anybody of anything they don't want to believe." Martha laughed. "You win. I just hope I'm there when the blind men hit the wall.”

“If you dance with the devil, the devil don't change, he changes you.”

“So, how is it that you don’t have a girlfriend?” I asked boldly.Joel shrugged.“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” There was no way that he’d never had a girlfriend.He shrugged again.“You’re not serious.”“You’re surprised?”“I’m sorry, do you own a mirror?”Joel laughed in that I’ll-never-understand-women kind of way. “I’ve never wanted one,” he admitted, though it seemed that there was more to it.“What? A mirror? Or a girlfriend?”He laughed again, even harder this time. “A girlfriend.”“Are you gay?” He smiled. “No, I’m not gay.”“Oh.” I blushed. Why was I being so nosy all of a sudden?”