“Silk didn't care if it slid over scars or smooth, untouched skin. I'd earned my right to be paranoid.”

“Nothing like the soft touch of a woman. Her smooth skin...or her rough scars.”

“I'd rather wear bare skin than raw silk any day.”

“It will be as if I'd never existed, he'd promised me.I felt the smooth wooden floor beneath my knees, and then the palms of my hands, and then it was pressed against the skin of my cheek. I hoped that I was fainting, but, to my disappointment, I didn't lose consciousness. The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washed over my head, pulling me under.I did not resurface.”

“If I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss. Without dreams,I have to be content with my own imagination—which is almost as good. I can picture all those things perfectly.”

“Skin had hope, that's what skin does. Heals over the scarred place, makes a road.”