“A sound startled him, and to his everlasting irritation, his body jerked. The nurse was standing at the foot of the bed. Did they all have to creep around? He was going to insist bells be sewn onto everyone’s clothes so he was aware of them approaching.”

“Jake was hurting, emotionally and physically, and he was exhausted. He stared at her in wonder. "You're going to name him after me?" "I don't see any other father in this house." Ignoring the pain throbbing in his hands, he drew her close, holding onto her tightly. It was the most precious gift she could have given him.”

“He heard a soft voice calling him and turned towards it, trying to focus the vision before him. It wasn't his mother. If he weren't so tired, he would have smiled. He hadn't expected to find an angel in Hell. The angel, her image blurred, a whiteness surrounding her, would understand. The angel would know. "Why couldn't she love me?" he asked. The angel's answer was garbled. He strained to understand the words, not all his senses failed him as he slipped back into the abyss on the edge of Hell. And the angel knelt down beside the bed and wept.”

“How did you get in here?” Sterling asked, wishing his words didn’t sound quite so slurred. He was having more difficulty than usual bringing his shadowed world into focus. Damnation, why hadn’t he lit more lamps or poured himself fewer snifters of brandy?“Not important,” Jack Dodger said. “What is important is for you to realize that you can do nothing to keep us out if we decide we want in.”

“He cradled her face between his hands, angled his mouth over hers, and welcomed the bliss she offered. Boldly, she gave her tongue the freedom to roam within his mouth. She sighed. He moaned.He thought a man could become spoiled touching a woman. He might never want to touch stone again. Stone wasn't warm. It didn't alter its shape with the gentlest of pressures. Stone didn't breathe so he could feel its moisture on his face. Rocks didn't make soft sounds that he'd carry with him until the day he died.”

“He was lying in bed with the woman he loved . . . a woman he couldn't make love to. He closed his eyes. More than any­thing in this world, he wanted this woman to be happy. He'd give her anything, do anything to make her happy. Even if it made his own life hell.”

“Meg forgot about cautioning him to be quiet. She forgot about everything but watching the care with which he wrapped a blanket around Mama Warner before gingerly lifting her into his arms and cradling her against his chest."Comfortable?" he asked."You know how to hold a woman so she feels precious. Makes me wish I was sixty years younger.”