“But a part of me lies buried in lace and roses on a riverbank in France-a part of me is broken off forever. A part of me will be unflyable, stuck in the climb.”

“A part of me will always be unflyable, stuck in the climb.”

“But I have told the truth. Isn't that ironic? They sent me because I am so good at telling lies. But I have told the truth.”

“KISS ME, HARDY! Kiss me, QUICK!”

“She has the filthiest tongue of any woman in France. Burn her mouth clean.”

“And this, even more wonderful and mysterious, is also true: when I read it, when I read what Julie's written, she is instantly alive again, whole and undamaged. With her words in my mind while I'm reading, she is as real as I am. Gloriously daft, drop-dead charming, full of bookish nonsense and foul language, brave and generous. She's right here. Afraid and exhausted, alone, but fighting. Flying in silver moonlight in a plane that can't be landed, stuck in the climb—alive, alive, ALIVE.”

“Von Loewe really should know me well enough by now to realize that I am not going to face my execution without a fight. Or with anything remotely resembling dignity.”