“Without warning, he jumped into the air. Startled, I held him tighter, my cheek against his. Speaking into my ear, he said, “Yer not too tall, nor too thin, nor do ye weigh too much. Yer perfect the way ye are, lass. A man that does not possess the strength, patience and intelligence to provide fer and protect a woman is no man at all.”

“Pain is the enemy. It is a ghost. I will allow it to wash over me, through me, leaving nothing in its wake.”

“I say too much of what, he says too much of everything, too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and I don't know where to begin but I want to try.”

“That's the question isn't it? Is Henry Blaire real? Its definitely what I get asked the most. And all I can say is -- what do you define as real? The pages of the book are real, so therefore he is too.”

“Love isn't a burst o' trumpets and a flock o' doves descendin' out o' the heavens to roost on yer heads. Tis sharin' a cup o' tea by the hearth on a cold winter's night. 'Tis the look in yer husband's eyes when ye lay yer first child in his arms.Tis the ache in yer heart when ye watch the light in his eyes dim fer the last time, and know a part o' ye has gone out o' this world with him...”

“Seasons may change winter to spring, but I love you until the end of timeCome what may, come what may, I will love you until my dying daySuddenly the world seems such a perfect placeSuddenly it moves with such a perfect graceSuddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste, it all revolves around you.And there’s no mountain too high no river too wideSing out this song and I’ll be there by your sideStorm clouds may gather and stars may collideBut I love you until the end of time”

“Ye wake in a corner and stay there hoping yer body will disappear, the thoughts smothering ye; these thoughts; but ye want to remember and face up to things, just something keeps ye from doing it, why can't ye no do it; the words filling yer head: then the other words; there's something wrong; there's something far far wrong; ye're no a good man, ye're just no a good man. Edging back into awareness, of where ye are: here, slumped in this corner, with these thoughts filling ye. And oh christ his back was sore; stiff, and the head pounding. He shivered and hunched up his shoulders, shut his eyes, rubbed into the corners with his fingertips; seeing all kinds of spots and lights. Where in the name of fuck...”