“It's like he has emotional amnesia... I think you have to accept that the person you knew isn't there at the moment. I was witness to how much he loved you. I have the photos. This isn't the person we knew. I don't recognize this person. He's shed his skin." Her heart is broken too. She has to say the thing that will give me back my life. She draws on every reserve. I see how much it hurts her and it hurts me too. I came from her joy and her pain, I lived in it and I live in it now.”

“I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn't that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you. I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me. And then she stopped walking. Under the moon, she stopped. And looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. She probably didn't even know I was there. But I'll always love her. All my life.”

“I’m,” he swallowed thickly, unsure of why he wanted-no needed to explain hisbehavior to her. “I am not comfortable amongst the ton. I’m a solitary person, I keep my own counsel, and prefer to do so.”“You’re lonely.”He stopped then, shocked by her words, by her perception of him. He’d madehimself vulnerable, let himself weaken as her soft body melded with his. She saw too much, knew too much.“This,” he said, his voice cracking with desire, with the pain of what he knew he must do. “I can’t….”“Just let me in,” she whispered.“I’m afraid you would not like what you see.”“Trust me,” she said, her tempting mouth only inches away from his.-Blaine and Madeline.”

“And then he says something like this ... "I would die for you. But I won't live for you." Something like that. I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people.”

“God Em, I love you so much it hurts,” came his pained whisper in her ear.“I know. I love you so much, too.”

“I love you, Jason. You have no idea how much I love you – she said. She wanted to add how she knew the shape of each of his fingernails, how she could know exactly which of his fingers was caressing her back, which fingertip was resting on her face. His every touch occupied her heart and increased her passion. She was never hiding that from him. That’s why she repeated – I love you.”