“And even this heart of mine has something artificial. The dancers have sewn it into a bag of pink satin, pink satin slightly faded, like their dancing shoes.”

“Prince Andrei was one of the best dancers of his day. Natasha danced exquisitely. Her little feet in their satin dancing shoes performed their role swiftly, lightly, as if they had wings, while her face was radiant and ecstatic with happiness.”

“Where's the man that could ease a heart like a satin gown?”

“What was true and solid begins to slide, dissolve.Your thoughts unravel faster than a satin ribbonWhose edge hasn't been burnedUntil you sit amidst a tangle of limp, pink threads,Unable to reasonAt all.”

“Ser Jaime?" Even in soiled pink satin and torn lace, Brienne looked more like a man in a gown than a proper woman."I am grateful, but...you were well away. Why come back?"A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jaime only shrugged. "I dreamed of you," he said.”

“I think that I still have it in my heart someday to paint a bookshop with the front yellow and pink in the evening...like a light in the midst of the darkness.”