“I sat down on the grass and looked up at Brae. He was still shirtless and - although it pained me a little to even think it - it suited him. He was in really good shape and he looked less uptight without it, more relaxed. If it wasn't for his weird silver hair he could have looked perfectly ordinary. Better than ordinary in fact.”

“Gotanda swung by at either-forty. He was wearing a perfectly ordinary gray V-neck sweater over a perfectly ordinary blue button-down shirt with- you got it - perfectly ordinary cotton slacks. And still he looked striking. Extraordinarily so.”

“I looked on astounded as from his ordinary life he made his art. We were both ordinary men, he and I. Yet from the ordinary he created Legends--and I from Legends created only the ordinary!”

“In fact, when he wasn’t being a jerk, controlling or a pain in the ass, he looked at me…He looked at me…Oh hell, he looked at me like I was his life.”

“He was standing back in the living room, and he just had this look. He had on a tan suit, with these hazel eyes, shaggy blond hair. Very good-looking. Very well dressed. He could do this thing with his eyes. All of a sudden they were like stars - this twinkle there, this spark. I still remember that look. 'What is this?' I said to myself. 'What is this?”

“But I don't ask him anything, because he's driving with that weird fake-happy look on his face, as if he's about to chop me up into little pieces and feed me to a tiger.”