“I do not feel obliged in my reading. I read to be entertained and to relax, and to go into another world, not because it's good for me.”

“You can't write well what you don't read for pleasure. If it doesn't entertain you, it's not going to entertain anyone else.”

“...If I don't have twenty or thirty books right here, waiting to be read, I start jonesing. That's my compulsion.”

“There I go being critical again. Does a man have to stand on one foot and juggle for me to consider him entertaining? What am I looking for? A knight?...No, knights are all polished and shiny. I think my taste runs to something with a bit of tarnish and maybe a few scratches. Someone who can make me laugh and cry and make me angry and make my knees tremble when he touches me.”

“Sometimes people say I think too much. Maybe it's true. If it is, it's because I feel too much.”

“The room was a compact, informal library. Books stood or were stacked on the shelves that ran along two walls from floor to ceiling, sat on the tables like knickknacks, trooped around the room like soldiers. They struck Malory as more than knowledge or entertainment, even more than stories or information. They were colour and texture, in a haphazard yet somehow intricate decorating scheme.The short leg of the L-shaped room boasted still more books, as well as a small table that held the remains of Dana's breakfast.With her hands on her hips, Dana watched Malory's perusal of her space. She'd seen the reaction before. 'No I haven't read them all, but I will.And no I don't know how many I have. Want coffee?'Let me just ask this. Do you ever actually use the services of the library?'Sure, but I need to own them. If I don't have twenty or thirty books right here, waiting to be read, I start jonesing. That's my compulsion.”

“Please let me go.""Anna." He lowered his brow to hers. "Don't ask me to do that, because I don't think I can live without you. Take a chance, roll the dice. Come with me.”