“He'd forgotten just how beautiful she was.She was wearing a plain gown the color of weak, milky tea, largely covered by a black apron. There was a smudge of dirt across her cheek, and her gilded curls were an untamed riot with a cobweb draped across one side.She was exquisite.”

“No matter how plain a woman may be, if truth and honesty are written across her face, she will be beautiful.”

“Color fills her cheeks, and I think it again: that Johanna Reyes might still be beautiful. Except now I think that she isn't just beautiful in spite of the scar, she's somehow beautiful with it, like Lynn with her buzzed hair, like Tobias with the memories of his father's cruelty that he wears like armor, like my mother in her plain gray clothing.”

“Celia laughs and a curl of her hair falls across her cheek.Marco tentatively moves to brush it off her face, but before his fingers reach her, she pushes herself off the ledge, her silver gown a billowing cloud as she falls onto the pile of jewel-toned cushions.”

“How do I look?”She was wearing a pair of tiny jean shorts and a bright pink T-shirt. Her blond hair was matted on one side and there were dirt smudges all over her arms, legs, and face.Gabriel hesitated. “Like a Barbie doll that got run over by a garbage truck.”“Wow. Really, Gabriel?”

“A random crack in the old plaster in the corner behind her seemed to grow, until it curled its way across the ceiling, circled the frosted chandelier, and swirled its way back down. It looked like a heart. A giant, looping, girly heart had just appeared in the cracking plaster of her bedroom ceiling."Lena.""Yeah?""Is your ceiling about to fall in on our heads?"She turned and looked at the crack. When she saw it, she bit her lip, and her cheeks turned pink. "I don't think so. It's just a crack in the plaster.""Were you trying to do that?""No." A creeping pink spread across her nose and cheeks. She looked away.”