“A hand landed on his ass and urged him on and there was no wall, there were no obstacles, there was only the sea of Margaret, the hot bath of her enveloping love. She put her lips to his ear and whispered warm while cool hands pressed his back and steered him all the way into her. ‘You’ll never get away. You’ll move in with me, we’ll get married, we’ll have children. You’ll be here forever,’ she whispered, and in the ocean of her being, he let go of the frightened air trapped in his heart, he exhaled the despair of his soul and he thought with glee: I’m home! I’m home! Thank God, I’m home!”

“Perhaps they assumed that he would have a hard time putting her first. Perhaps they had not understood that for a long time she had come first with him, that for many years she had been his heart's home and his mind's anchor and that fighting to keep her alive was essential to preserving his own soul.”

“... and that did it. That brought those depthless blue eyes within a foot, perhaps six inches, maybe even closer, and something happened inside Enrique, like a guitar string suddenly unstrung. There was a shock and a vibration in his heart, a palpable break inside the cavity of his chest. He had dropped out of high school and never took a class in anatomy, but he did know that the cardiovascular system wasn't supposed to react as if it were the source and center of feeling. And yet he would have sworn to all and sundry - not that he expected to admit it to anyone - that Margaret, or at least her bright blue eyes, had just snapped his brittle heart.”

“When the sun was low in the sky, he retreated back into the cave and tapped her on the shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”She bounced upright, and her head caught him on the chin, knocking his teeth together and catching his lip between them.“Ouch!” he yelped.“I’m sorry. I get called so often in the middle of the night for emergencies that I’m used to popping out of bed.”He massaged his chin and worked his jaw and dabbed at his split lip. “I’ll remember that.”She leaned toward him and moved his hand out of the way. “You’re bleeding.”She unwounded the handkerchief from her hand and used it to dab at his lip. She moved the cloth away and used a finger to plump his lip where his teeth had left a tiny cut. “Speaking as a physician, I’d say you’ll recover.”“Not if you keep that up for long,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.She seemed startled, then looked back at him. Their eyes caught and held. “We really shouldn’t do this,” she murmured. “I know,” he said, as he lowered his mouth to hers. “Be gentle with me. I’m wounded.”

“And into its bland merciless face what did he have to show as his proof that he deserved to live? - Nothing but that he was afraid to die.”

“You’ll hate me,” she said, her arms locked around him because she couldn’t not hold him when he was close. “One day, you’ll hate me.” It was the thing she most feared. Hand fisting in her hair, he pressed his forehead to her own, his eyes night-glow in the dark. “I will love you until the day they put me in the earth.”

“He vowed that the thought of her should continue ever before him to help him keep his hands as clean as a man might in this desperate trade upon which he was embarking. And so, although he might entertain no delusive hope of ever winning her for his own, of ever seeing her again, yet the memory of her was to abide in his soul as a bitter-sweet, purifying influence. The love that is never to be realized will often remain a man’s guiding ideal.”