“I don’t think I’m special. I want you to know that,” Odile says sharply. “I don’t think I’m better than everybody else.”

“I just want you to know that you’re very special… and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has.”

“I don’t think you know what you want.”“Yes. I do. I want you, and being with you feels a hell of a lot better than being without you. I’m not going to fight it anymore.”

“Well, I know better what I don’t want. I don’t want somebody who’s always nagging me to be something I’m not. And I don’t want somebody who thinks she knows what’s best for me and who maneuvers around trying to get me to do things her way.” Kate frowned. “Nobody wants anyone like that. It’s like saying, ‘I don’t want someone who’ll poke me in the eye with a sharp stick.’ Forget what you don’t want. What do you want?”

“I don’t. I don’t want anybody else to touch you. I’m silly. I get furious if they touch you.”

“Why no. I’m too conceited. If you want to call it that. I don’t make comparisons. I never think of myself in relation to anyone else. I just refuse to measure myself as part of anything. I’m an utter egotist.”