“By nature independent, gay, even exuberant, seductively responsive and given to those spontaneous sallies that sparkle in the conversation of certain daughters of Paris who seem to have inhaled since childhood the pungent breath of the boulevards laden with the nightly laughter of audiences leaving theaters, Madame de Burne's five years of bondage had nonetheless endowed her with a singular timidity which mingled oddly with her youthful mettle, a great fear of saying too much, of going to far, along with a fierce yearning for emancipation and a firm resolve never again to compromise her freedom.”

“I never rebel so much against France as not to regard Paris with a friendly eye; she has had my heart since my childhood.... I love her tenderly, even to her warts and her spots. I am French only by this great city: the glory of France, and one of the noblest ornaments of the world.”

“And then there were the things Sally knew her mother would have loved. Those, too, made it easy to imagine how she might come back to life, since nothing good seemed quite real without her there to approve of it.”

“It was tragic how life had sucked her down to the bones, all her spontaneity her laughter and freedom had vanished. I knew then that I didn't ever want to be like that. Whatever happened, life was something too precious to give up on so easily.”

“A lady known as Paris, Romantic and CharmingHas left her old companions and faded from viewLonely men with lonely eyes are seeking her in vainHer streets are where they were, but there's no sign of herShe has left the SeineThe last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay,I heard the laughter of her heart in every street caféThe last time I saw Paris, her trees were dressed for spring,And lovers walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing.I dodged the same old taxicabs that I had dodged for years.The chorus of their squeaky horns was music to my ears.The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay,No matter how they change her, I'll remember her that way.I'll think of happy hours, and people who shared themOld women, selling flowers, in markets at dawnChildren who applauded, Punch and Judy in the parkAnd those who danced at night and kept our Paris bright'til the town went dark.”

“Most modern freedom is at root fear. It is not so much that we are too bold to endure rules; it is rather that we are too timid to endure responsibilities.”