“Have you seen Marcus?" he asked his ugly friend."Yes, he was stoping some people in the Violet Room from climbing the curtains.""What for?""They were not professionals.""Oh.”

“…”The Emersons who were at Florence, do you mean? No, I don’t suppose it will prove to be them. It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr. Vyse’s. Oh, Mrs. Honeychurch, the oddest people! The queerest people! For our part we liked them, didn’t we?” He appealed to Lucy. “There was a great scene over some violets. They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa. Poor little ladies! So shocked and so pleased. It used to be one of Miss Catharine’s great stories. ‘My dear sister loves flowers,’ it began. They found the whole room a mass of blue — vases and jugs — and the story ends with ‘So ungentlemanly and yet so beautiful.’ It is all very difficult. Yes, I always connect those Florentine Emersons with violets.”…”

“Can you make a house of cards?" she asked."Yes," Violet said, and went on looking. This way Violet had of seizing first not the most obvious sense of what people said to her but some other, interior echo or reverse side of it was a thing that baffled and frustrated her husband, who sought in her sybilline responses to ordinary questions some truth he was sure Violet knew but couldn't quite enunciate. With his father-in-law's help, he had filled volumes with his searchings. Her children, though, hardly noticed it. Nora shifted from foot to foot for a moment waiting for the promised structure, and when it didn't appear forgot it. The clock on the mantelpiece chimed.”

“Now, where were we?” he said. “Oh, yes. We were about to have some honest conversation. Roadkill, are you in love with Hawk?”Roadkill sighed and asked plaintively, “Can’t we just go back to prison?”

“Is that what you were doing in my room?” he asks after a moment.I sigh. Why am I telling him any of this? “Yes. I was on assignment.”“I was your assignment?”“Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then grins. “That’s kind of hot.”

“Real friends are hard to come by, and as annoying as Henry is, he'd throw himself in front of dragon's fire for you.""And that's the definition of a real friend?""Oh, yes, just ask Owain." He laughed.”