“For the images of the gods are much easier to misuse for human purposes than the gods themselves. Images have no will and no desires. Statues stand for nothing but the goals of the rulers. … The word of a god is, in truth, only the word of the one who erected his statue.”

“One day," she said, "I'll catch dreams like butterflies.""And then what?" he asked."Then I'll put them between the pages of big, fat books and press them until they're words.""Suppose there's someone who never dreams of anything but you?""Maybe then we're both words in a book. Two names among all the others.”

“She struggled to find words, and then all the anger she had been damming up for the last few minutes broke out. It made no difference that none of what had happened was his fault. Nor did the fact that he’d saved her, or what he had sacrificed to do it. He was a Carnevare. He was one of them. And he was preventing her from going to her sister’s aid when Zoe needed her.“The girl that Cesare killed … ,” she snapped, “her name was Lilia. She … she loved my sister. Do you understand that? Zoe has just lost the person who probably meant more to her than anything else. And Lilia sacrificed herself for me. How can you think that—”“I’d have done the same thing,” he interrupted her calmly. “I’d have died for you up on that mountain.”That took her breath away. For a moment it deprived her not only of her self-control, but of the ability to utter another syllable.After endless seconds, she stammered, “That—that’s nonsense.”“It’s the truth.” He turned his head and looked at her. “I’m in love with you, Rosa.”She hesitated, fighting for composure.“Oh, hell,” she whispered.He smiled sadly.Then neither of them said anything, until finally she took his cell phone and called Zoe.”

“You just have to look hard. Then you’ll find what you’re after.”It sounded almost as if he were trying to help her in her search for the unique, awkward magic of the place. And she realized he must have thought the same, the first time he ever drove along this road to nowhere, maybe every time he returned. Even today. Maybe everyone, in the face of this void, was searching for something to cling to. Alessandro perhaps even a little more than other people. In the last few minutes she’d discovered more thoughtfulness in him than she’d have thought possible, more desire for answers. Thinking this, it was difficult to look away from him and turn her eyes on what lay ahead of them again.”

“If they [won], it would only be because they didn't forget what they were. Who they were. And that it was worth it to fight just for that.”

“...it isn’t other people who decide if you feel alone, it’s yourself. Only I didn’t know that yet.”

“He clasped her fingers, not so she could pull him up but clearly because he wanted to touch them. She wanted it too, way too much, and then he stood there right in front of her, the abyss beside them, and she could smell his skin and his hair, and let go of his hand, even though she secretly wanted something quite different.”