“The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely on her shoulders now. She was twenty-five and looked it, and so there as no longer any need to try to be attractive.”

“It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.”

“Spinsterhood didn’t matter much to her; she was already married to science.”

“ When a girl is seventeen she needs good parents. When she's twenty-five she needs a pretty face and figure. When she's thirty-five she needs a good personality. When she's fifty-five she needs cash. ”

“Even now she could not muster much angst toward Lord Devon. She had experienced twenty-and-four kisses in her lifetime stolen by gentlemen, bohemians, even royalty from all the continental nations, men who could not kiss without trying to maul her. But number twenty-five — Wilhelm — had set her aside despite his obvious arousal. Rather chivalrous, in a way.”

“Life is short. From here to that old car you know so well there is a stretch of twenty, twenty-five paces. It is a very short walk. Make those twenty-five steps. Now. Right now. Come just as you are. And we shall live happily ever after. ”