“Lotte watched Peter's fingers gently massaging his forehead and felt a wave of affection. The slightest stress - anxiety, embarrassment, confusion - brought his hand to his brow, like a thumb to the mouth of a child.”

“Don't spend time with anyone you don't like.”

“[My guilty pleasure is a] deep, eco-unfriendly, hot bath. Preferably with a glass of champagne and someone sitting on the loo seat gossiping.”

“Images of African Americans as bad mothers, ineffective mothers, and matriarchs...conceal and justify the difficult conditions in which they work and raise children. But oddly enough, these same women, who are said to run amok in their own communities, are thought to be entirely competent at parenting the children of the elite-as mammies during slavery, as domestic workers during segregation, or as child care workers today.”

“Four flips the gun in this hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.”

“He placed his hand under hers gently and straightened her fingers. His touch felt like fire and ice and commanded her complete attention.”

“His head dropped to watch his thumb move over my fingers as he muttered, “Naked, baby.”My head twitched at his weird word.“Pardon?”His eyes came to mine and he repeated, “Naked.”I felt my brows draw together and I asked, “Naked?”He held my gaze even as he moved...”