“I have observed that you treat a man as an old garment to be taken apart and stitched again. Perhaps you could think of him as good cloth, rich fabric that wants only to be embroidered upon. And perhaps, if you will do that, you will see that you love Tailor yourself.”

“My lord, why do you trouble me by walking with me in the dark? It is cruel.""I think to protect you from them," he said.”

“You have no dower," he said. "Live, Keturah. Go home.""But I do have a dower," I said plainly. "This is my dower, Lord Death; the crown of flowers I will never wear at my wedding."He knelt on one knee before me."The little house I would have had of my own, to furnish and clean. That, too, is part of my dower.""I will give you the world for your footstool," he said."And most precious of all, I give you the wee baby I will never hold in my arms.”

“When it is winter and we must walk in the blizzard snow do not our fingers and toes whisper death  And when winter is at last over. . .can we not hear our bellies whisper death to us  In the dark don't we know  And when we are paralyzed by nightmares  We know what you are.  With our first cries we rail against you.  We see you in every drop of blood in every tear.”

“Papa loves you with a dying and infernal love," the youngest girl said."Undying," the eldest girl corrected. "And eternal.”

“His [Death] voice is cold at first, John. It seems unfeeling. But if you listen without fear, you find that when he speaks, the most ordinary words become poetry. When he stands close to you, your life becomes a song, a praise. When he touches you, your smallest talents become gold; the most ordinary loves break your heart with their beauty.”

“Demonstrate talent, said Grandmother often to me, and you will still be loved by a husband when beauty has faded.”