“I shall tell you a truth . . . your lips taste of sweet ripened berries. I should be so forward as to take them in degust. And if it cannot be so, then I shall kneel until that day in purgatory.”

“I crave your lips.” His breath was sweet. “Give me but one taste and I shall ask no more.”

“You will tell me the quiet story of your day's work, without any object except to give me your thoughts and your life. You will speak of your childhood memories. I shall not understand them very well because You will be able to give me, perforce, only insufficient details, but I shall love your sweet strange language.”

“I shall not tell your husband and you shall not tell my wife."Tell them what?"That you and I were outwitted by a ropma."That would be shamful."Girl, we could never live it down.”

“You are so . . . odd.""I shall take that as a compliment."-Thor to No'One”

“The hours must be endured and those who cannot do so in life will most surely do so in death. You say you cannot face them? Life’s joys and pains both? You shall find them waiting for you, a world of ignored moments there to be explored. Then shall you know how long an hour can be, shall feel the awful depth and restlessness of even a single day, and all the days you fled from life while you were alive.”