“This gown, is it cut from shadow?" the general asked. "I can barely feel it between my fingers."Not for want of trying, thought Madrigal."Perhaps it is a reflection of the night sky," he suggested, "skimmed from a pond?"She supposed that he was being poetic. erotic, even. In return, as unerotically as possible- more like complaining of a stain that wouldn't come out-she said, "Yes, my lord. I went for a dip, and the reflection clung.”

“I really don't think anyone can blame us for wanting no part of the marriage mart if she is already the belle of the ball," Ella said. "My mother even hadthe audacity to ask me earlier if I didn't think I should have a gown made like hers! Lord deliver me from the London season”

“When she asks, I have to say that Yes, I do like my lifestyle. I couldn't bare to devote any more thought to the question.”

“This fool he promised me is like to be my own reflection in a pond.”

“I look up at the night sky, and I know that, yes, we are part of this Universe, we are in this Universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts is that the Universe is in us. When I reflect on that fact, I look up—many people feel small, because they’re small and the Universe is big, but I feel big, because my atoms came from those stars.”

“When I'm drunk with feeling and nature is drinking from my lips and we reflect each other in our atmospheres, then my words come effortlessly and my fingers go into labor...day or night. ”