“Lydia: What the devil do you mean by creeping up on me? You're suppose to be in a brothel.Vere: I lied. I can't believe you fell for the old going-to-a-brothel ruse. You didn't even look out the window to make sure I'd gone away.”

“Just make sure you're gone by the time we get to Miles's. It creeps me out to see you sitting in his lap without his permission.”

“I collected their papers. The ones that blew into Brooklyn. They were just there at first. I didn't even know what they were. But once I did, I went all over the place, picking them up. I don't know what to do with them. I mean, they're meaningless now, but they still exist. You can't throw out something like that. You can't make them gone like that.”

“Do you know, it's really hard to be a parent. I blame it on Santa Claus. You spend so long making sure your kid doesn't know he's fake that you can't tell when you're supposed to stop.""Mom, I found you and Calla wrapping my presents when I was, like, six.""It was a metaphor, Blue.""A metaphor's supposed to clarify by providing an example. That didn't clarify.""Do you know what I mean or not?""What you mean is that you're sorry you didn't tell me about Butternut."Maura glowered at the door as if Calla stood behind it. "I wish you wouldn't call him that.""If you'd been the one to tell me about him, then I wouldn't be using what Calla told me.""Fair enough.”

“You have to believe what you're saying if you're going to convince me. I just can't break that rule, even if I want to.”

“I don't suppose you believe love could last forever."I'd hurt him. I looked away, chagrined."You're mistaken," I said. "I do believe it could. But it would depend upon the lovers."He folded his arms and watched me, forcing me to return his gaze. Oh, those eyes."And what kind of lovers must they be?" he asked.The You-and-Me kind?”