“I've loved this house from the moment I set eyes on it," Dad said quietly."I just wish it were a little bigger," I said. "I need at least five hundred bedrooms to keep from feeling cramped, you know?”

“I wish I had a hundred years, she said, very quietly. A hundred years I could give to you.”

“I want you to make love to me. I want to go to your room, your bed, be under you, feel you inside me, see your eyes, feel your body and know…we're together. I don't know if that's love or just need, but I know I need you. I need that with you. I need what I've never known and I need it from you. Only you. And it may destroy everything or build something. I really don't know. I just know…Please make love to me.”

“You just gotta tell her, man,’ I said. ‘You just gotta say, “Angela, I really like you, but there’s something you need to know: when we go to my house and hook up, we’ll be watched by the twenty-four hundred eyes of twelve hundred black Santas.”

“I don't really know. I've never rescued a girl I love from the Furies before." He looked alarmed as he noticed my eyes were filling with tears. "Don't cry." "How can I not?" I asked him. "You just said you love me.""Why else did you think all of this was happening?" He set the book aside to wrap his arms around me. "The Furies wouldn't be trying to kill you if I didn't love you.”

“And for at least that moment, I wouldn't have traded the hundreds of books I've read for the few I know almost by heart.”