“I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forestThe trees keep the tempo and they sway in timeQuartet of crickets chime in for the chorusIf I were to pluck on your heartstrings, would you strum on mine?”

“If you were mine, I would never be able to walk away from you. If you were mine, I'd worship every inch of your body with my hands, lips, and tongue. If you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to stand in the same room as you without running my hands over your skin and tasting your lips. If you were mine…”

“If you were mine,” he murmured low under his breath, “I would walk through the fires of hell itself to keep you away from a man like me.”

“His touch does strange things to me. It makes me feel things. Things I'm not supposed to feel. Things I can't allow myself to feel. It's like his fingers are strumming my heartstrings, pulling, plucking, twisting, and I'm helpless. Completely and utterly helpless.”

“But I'd rather help than watch. I'd rather have a heart than a mind. I'd rather expose too much than too little. I'd rather say hello to strangers than be afraid of them. I would rather know all this about myself than have more money than I need. I'd rather have something to love than a way to impress you.”

“Water, wind and birdsong were the echoes in this quiet place of a great chiming symphony that was surging around the world. Knee-deep in grasses and moon daisies, Stella stood and listened, swaying a little as the flowers and trees were swaying, her spirit voice singing loudly, though her lips were still, and every pulse in her body beating its hammer strokes in time to the song.”