“...the monk beat me to break my spirit, incensed I knew Acquinas - angry, I knew his riddle - beauty is what is pleasing to the eye - he wasn't...”

“I couldn't tell you what was happening on the TV screen. My eyes saw the pictures, but could not register what was happening, especially since my eyes kept falling on Luke. I knew that he knew that I was watching him because he grinned and threw a cookie at me without taking his eyes off the screen.”

“They knew each other's names. He knew she loved to dance. She knew he was a herder of goats. But there is another kind of meeting...the meeting of eye and eye, and spirit and spirit.”

“His grace to overlook my silliness in thinking that I knew what to do and bless me with what He knew was best anyway. He promised that His grace was sufficient, that His grace would be enough...”

“I know. So, I was angry with you. I didn't know why. I was angry with the world. I did know why. I hated all my therapists for being useless. I was this little ball of self-destructive fury, and none of them could do anything but tell me that I was a little ball of self-destructive fury. [...] I knew I was angry. Tell me what to do with that anger, please.”

“No one else should see him like that, ever. Not my Rue. And he was mine, as much as I was his. I knew that now, just from the way he looked at me after I kissed him. Everything I felt for him, every ounce of yearning and desire and need, had shone out of his eyes as he stared up at me. And I knew right then, I knew… he belonged to me.”