“I know why you want to wear the plum,” Marcelline said. “It’s ravishing. It’ll make Longmore swoon.”“It might make him do some things,” Sophy said. “But swooning isn’t one of them. He’s the sort of man who tells a girl he l-loves her—and then l-laughs. As thoughit’s a j-joke.”

“It’s me,” said Jace. “Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort.”

“Bitter disappointment pushed tears from her eyes."Now what's wrong? I said you could wear it."She drew in a shaky breath."I w-wanted you to l-like my dreeessssss."He moved his gaze over her."The gown makes my mouth water, love.”

“You just looked..." she said, searching for the word, "taken, you know? Plus you hardly reacted to Wes. I mean, you did alittle, but nothing like most girls. It was a little swoon. Not a sa-woon, you know?"I said, "Sa-woon?Oh, come on," she said shaking her head. "Even a blind girl could tell he is amazing.”

“He is a man, I think," he said, "who cares for nothing but a joke. He is a dangerous man."Lambert laughed in the act of lifting some macaroni to his mouth."Dangerous!" he said. "You don't know little Quin, sir!""Every man is dangerous," said the old man, without moving, "Who cares only for one thing. I was once dangerous myself.”

“...things I had come to find humor in would make your honest man swoon.”