“I caught Faraday's face between my hands and broke off the kiss, breathless. "I've just thought of something," I said."Something we haven't tried.""There's a lot of things we haven't tried," he said, "but I'm going to refrain from the obvious, and assume you're talking about the wormhole. What is it?”

“I'm just a little cold," said Knife, pulling the blanket closer about her shoulders.Paul wrapped his free arm around her. "It's all right," he said. "I've got you.""Yes," said Knife, smiling up at him. "You have.”

“Everybody has a story, Alison," he said. "Everybody has things they need to hide--sometimes even from themselves.”

“I might not be ready to pour out my feelings to the world, but I’d had enough of trying to ignore them.”

“I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a piercing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase--nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.”

“What would happen if you stopped fighting, and gave yourself permission to feel? Not just the good things, but everything?”

“Reluctantly she lifted her eyes to his, and he went on: "I want you to understand this as though I were one of your own people." He drew in a deep breath. "Thank you. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for my life.”