“I dare say she means to keep you from his attentions. Your honour demands she be slain.”

“I asked for so little!” she kept saying, as though her diminished demands alone should have protected her against any disappointments. But I think she was mistaken; she had actually asked for a lot. She had dared to ask for happiness, and she had dared to expect that happiness out of her marriage. You can’t possibly ask for more than that.”

“Is it like a Harry Potter thing?" He turned his head then. "A what?""A Harry Potter thing," she said again. "You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention?"He considered it. "You mean the children's book.""I have got to get you to watch more movies," she said. "You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the children's book.”

“She sipped from her bottle. “Okay. Truth or dare.”“Dare.”Okay, she hadn’t expected that. She’d been prepared to ask some lame question that she probably already knew the answer to. Now she had to think of a dare.The driving pulse of music gave her an idea.“Dance with me,” she blurted.He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s your dare?”“Not challenging enough?”He shook his head. “Not nearly.”“You haven’t seen me dance.”

“And so she shuddered away from the threat of his enduring love. What did he mean? Had she not the power to daunt him? She would see. It was more daring than became a man to threaten her.”

“Human relationships are vast as deserts: they demand all daring, she seemed to suggest. ”