“She may be lying in bed reading a book, she may be making love with a prize fighter, or she may be running like mad through a field of stubble, one shoe one, one shoe off, a man named Corn Cob pursuing her hotly. Wherever she is I am standing in complete darkness; her absence blots me out.”

“This woman talk like she from so deep in the country she got corn growing in her shoes.”

“She tilted her head to one side, considering him. "Do you love me?""Love is a trick and a sham. A foolish plague and a lie and a torment.""Do you love me?" she repeated, quite calmly. Knowing the answer."Yes, may it curse my soul.""May it save your soul," she said.”

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect—you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break—her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.”

“He is still, at times, astonished by her. She may be the most intelligent woman in England, he thinks. Her books may be read for centuries.”

“When a woman thinks her husband is a fool, her marriage is over. They may part in one year or ten; they may live together until death. But if she thinks he is a fool, she will not love him again.”