“Learn to awaken within your dreams, Isobel.”

“This should make him happy. This should change him. But it doesn't. It can't. He's been changed already. And I don't know what to write anymore, because I'm afraid of what it will be. Because I can't think, and she asks me to write, but I won't know what to write. I can't think. I can't think. Isobel. Isobel. Isobel.”

“Isobel's heart crashed against the cage of her chest, beating against his.”

“Words, Isobel, have always held the dangerous power to conjure things into being. Remember that.”

“But, Isobel thought with a bleak and sad smile, what better place to bury what was dead than in a cemetery?”

“Is it also true that you drank to excess?” Isobel asked, flipping to the next index card.Poe scoffed at the question, his response simply “Nyeh.”Varen’s head snapped so quickly toward her father that Isobel was surprised the sunglasses hadn’t flown off.“Well, sometimes,” Poe corrected himself. Shifting, he stooped in his seat.Varen’s stare remained.“Often,” Poe growled, angling away, pulling his already tight jacket around himself even tighter.”

“My beautiful, my Isobel. My Love. You ask me to wait. And so I wait.For all of this, I know, is but a dream.And when, in sleep, at last we wake,I will see you again.”