“What the hell is this stuff?" he muttered, frowning at the oily spot on the linen cloth. "Pearlman slathered it on me this morning.""It's macassar oil. Gentlemen use it to keep their hair neat. Nicholas used it," she added pointedly."Well, tomorrow he's giving it up. I smell like a rotten apple.""You do not. And I think it looks rather nice."He sent her an incredulous look. "I look like an otter. And everything I put my head against gets greasy.""That's why someone invented the antimacassar," she told him, almost smiling."The-aha!" He laughed as he made the connection. "Of course. First they invent something stupid, then something ugly to make up for it. We live in a wondrous age, Annie.”

“I hate jealousy. At least it's its own punishment; it makes me feel like hell.”

“Isabel never despaired, even though I think she knew everything that was going to happen, right from the beginning. There was a Walt Whitman poem she liked, especially the part that went - 'All goes onward and outward,/Nothing collapses/And to die is different from/What anyone supposes/And Luckier.' She tried to believe that, and it gave her some comfort, I know. She was very brave. Always. She hid her anguish and sadness, although I know she felt them. Because she wasn't losing only one person she loved - as we have. She was losing all of them.”

“My father would take you wherever you wanted to go," he told her softly. "I was pretty sure I could talk you into staying, but I underestimated how badly hurt I was.""Stupid," she said tartly.He looked up at her, and whatever he saw in her face made him smile, though his voice was serious when he answered her charge. "Yes. You throw my judgement off."-Charles and Anna when he thought she was leaving him and Changed when he was injured”

“You were the best thing in my life … I did love you. I do. As much as I’ve ever loved anyone, as much as I can. It feels like a lot – it takes up my whole heart.”

“I just tried to put myself in her place and figure out what would be the scariest thing. If I thought I might be dying. And it was being alone' ... 'To me,' she said, 'the scariest thing is oblivion. Being, and then not being.”

“Yes,” I told him. “I think the guy playing the Pirate King was awesome.”He stopped where he was.“What?” I asked, frowning at the big smile on his face.“I didn’t say I liked the Pirate King,” he told me.“Oh.” I closed my eyes—and there he was. A warm, edgy presence right on the edge of my perception. When I opened my eyes, he was standing right in front of me. “Cool,” I told him. “You’re back.”He kissed me leisurely. When he was finished, I was more than ready to head home. Fast.“You make me laugh,” he told me seriously.”