“I opine-I think you're a woman of your world,' he said from the far end of the couch. 'I would have a hard time seeing you pressed and powdered, dreading a life of servitude under the name of marriage. You'd die in that mold. I like you as you are, fiery and ill tempered.”

“I want to grow old without facelifts... I want to have the courage to be loyal to the face I've made. Sometimes I think it would be easier to avoid old age, to die young, but then you'd never complete your life, would you? You'd never wholly know you.”

“Seeing with your heart, speaking from your heart, wearing your heart on your sleeve, and sacrificing for your heart will transform you into an extravagant lover. Hard work? Absolutely. But when you're an old woman at the end of your life and you evaluate your time on earth, I believe that there is only one question- beyond that of your salvation- that will really matter: Did I love well?”

“I am sorry " I murmured. "I know. I ought not to have threatened to beat you " he returned. He pressed a kiss to my hair. "I just cannot bear to be kept out of your life " I said into the dark. He gave a sigh. "Julia you daft woman. When you will you understand You are my life.”

“I would hate to see seventeen people with monosyllabic names like Mike or Ann die, but if they did, and you wrote down all their names in groups of 5-7-5, you'd have one tragic haiku.”

“There never was another like you in this world. God throws the mold away every time he makes a man [or woman]... I think He made you what you are in order that you might do some particular thing better than anyone else in the world could do it.”