“She has built her whole life on the foundation of beauty: each chiseled plane, each sloping dimple, each soft curve as crucial as keystones in the cathedral of her body.”

“A mother's body remembers her babies-the folds of soft flesh, the softly furred scalp against her nose. Each child has it's own entreaties to body and soul.”

“20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. ‘The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and…’ She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. ‘And it’s cold, Max. It’s so cold…”

“As she drove the Trace, each curve revealing a scene rich with life and as picturesque as illustrations from a children's book, Anna was struck again by the beauty of the state. Over her years as a Yankee and a Westerner, she'd heard Mississippi described many ways. Beautiful had never been one of them.”

“I like my women soft and round. His blue gaze burned into hers. I don't lie, Becca. I love your body, every single curve, every dimple, every scar.”

“So Witch Baby played. Tossing her head, sucking in her cheeks and popping up with the impact of each beat. Thrusting her whole body into the music and thrusting the music into the air around her. She imagined that her drums were planets and the music was all the voices of growth and light and life joined together and traveling the universe.”