“Made­lyne, I would like to speak to you in pri­vate after din­ner.""Speak to me about what?" Made­lyne de­manded with a dis­grun­tled look."Men and their horses," Dun­can told her”

“He was as naked as a wolf. Made­lyne grabbed the blan­ket and threw it to­ward him. "Cover your­self, Dun­can. It isn't de­cent to let me see your legs.”

“Just so you know, I speak English. You don’t have to macho-speak with shit like ‘you with me’ after you macho-speak with a bunch of bossing me around. I get you. I’m with you. Or if I’m not, I’ll tell you.”“Noted,” he muttered but sounded like he was smiling. I made the diplomatic decision not to look.”

“To God I speak Spanish, to women Italian, to men French, and to my horse - German.”

“The truth is always something that is told, not something that is known. If there were no speaking or writing, there would be no truth about anything. There would only be what is.”

“I looked at her and tried to speak, but all I could think about was how shocked she'd be if I said what I was thinking.”