“Dreams were the stepping stones to glory.By pursuing them, he had attained a level of success that exceeded most men’s reach and acquired all that he had set out to gain: Land, cattle, and wealth beyond his highest expectations. Yet, desperation gnawed at him like a starving dog that had just discovered a buried bone, and as he gazed at the stars that blanketed the velvety sky, he felt as though he had achieved nothing.”

“He wondered if his own child would like tohave a dog, then shook off the thought. He was yearsaway from having a child. He needed a wife first—andobtaining her would be far more trouble than obtaininga mistress. Here, he had yet to get a mistress.”

“Please," Meg whispered. "I don't want any trouble here."He released his hold on her. As though she might say something further, she parted her lips slightly. Then she walked out of the church."Touch her again, and I'll kill you," Daniel said.Clay wondered if he should tell her brother that he'd be doing him a favor if he killed him… because his heart had just died.”

“He skidded to a dead halt and stared hard at Austin. The boy’s chin carried so many nicks from his first shave that it was a wonder he hadn’t bled to death. He was a year older than Houston had been when he’d last stood on a battlefield. Sweet Lord, Houston had never had the opportunity to shave his whole face; he’d never flirted with girls, wooed women, or danced through the night. He’d never loved. Not until Amelia. And he’d given her up because he’d thought it was best for her. Because he had nothing to offer her but a one-roomed log cabin, a few horses, a dream so small that it wouldn’t cover the palm of her hand. And his heart. His wounded heart.”

“...Closing his eyes, he saw every smile that Rebecca had ever directed his way and knew a pang of regret. He would have liked to have held her in his arms one last time before he died.”

“He wondered briefly what it was like to dream. He never did. Possibly because he so seldom slept. He was obsessed with obtaining all the wealth he could, burning the midnight oil as often as possible. It protected a person from having to do things he didn't want to do.”

“And while she pretended he was someone else, he would pretend she had no reason to imagine he was anyone other than who he was.”