“Those true eyes Too pure and too honest in aught to disguise The sweet soul shining through them.”

“His smile faded a little, growing softer, more intimate, like the look he'd showed her in bed this morning. 'You haven't learned yet when to lie.' Slowly, as if the words were being dragged from him, he added: 'I confess, Nell, I hope you never learn.' She found herself staring at him. Unsteadying thought: there was something hot in his eyes that wasn't purely want. It was too tender, too ... affectionate.”

“The pain is too much, the loss too great. There is no more before, and the after is too devastating. There isn’t enough of me left to go on. Grief has stolen too much of me now.”

“This infidelity thing is too easy. It is the good and the bad.”

“The true meaning of our philosophy will be unintelligible to the arrogant, the boastful and the mocking. Beware of those who exhibit such traits.”

“I’ve told too many lies. I hold too many secrets. Who can I really trust? Who can trust me when I don’t even trust myself?”

“What passing bells for these who die as cattle?Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stuttering rifle's rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries now for them; no prayers, nor bells,Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,The shrill demented choirs of wailing shells,And bugles calling for them from sad shires.What candles may be held to speed them all?Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes,Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall,Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,And each, slow dusk a drawing down of blinds.”