“He was looking at me, jsut as I'd thought he would be, but like Bert's, his light was not what I expected. No pity, no sadness: nothing had changed. I realized all the times I'd felt people stare at me, their faces had been pictures, abstracts. None of them were mirrors, able to reflect back the expression I thought one I wore, the feelings only I felt.”

“I realized all thosetimes I'd felt people stareat me, their faces had been pictures, abstracts. None of them were mirrors, ableto reflect back theexpression I thought only I wore, the feelings only I felt. Until now, thismoment, as our eyes met. If therewas a way to recognize something you'd never seen but still knew by heart, I feltit as I looked at hisface. Finally, someone understood.”

“He stared at Esmelda with a face like glass, nothing hidden. What I saw there wasn’t steel or fire or stone. Feelings stirred in me and I had to look away. I knew what I saw because I’d felt them, too — understanding, sadness, compassion...forgiveness.”

“I felt as I hadn't felt for ages. I had a foolish desire to burst into tears. for the first time I'd realized how all these people loathed me.”

“From this experience, I understood the danger of focusing only on what isn't there. What if I came to the end of my life and realized that I'd spent every day watching for a man who would never come to me? What an unbearable sorrow it would be, to realize I'd never really tasted the things I'd eaten, or seen the places I'd been, because I'd thought of nothing but the Chairman even while my life was drifting away from me. And yet if I drew my thoughts back from him, what life would I have? I would be like a dancer who had practiced since childhood for a performance she would never give.”

“He wasn't what I'd thought he was; maybe he never had been. I wasn't what I'd thought I was, either.”