“I keep thinking about a tale my nurse used to read to me about a bird whose wings are pinned to the ground. In the end, when he finally frees himself, he flies so high he becomes a star. My nurse said the story was about how we all have something that keeps us down.”

“I see.” The nurse nodded. “How can I help you?”“I’m Inspector Mc—” Phineas halted, obviously having second thoughts about using his real name.“Man-boob,” Brynley finished for him.He stiffened.“What can I do for you, Inspector McMan-boob?” the nurse asked.He gritted his teeth. “It’s muscle.”“Inspector Muscle?” the nurse asked.“Yes. Exactly.” He gave Brynley a triumphant look. “And this is my assistant, Nurse—”“Doctor,” Brynley corrected him.“Doctor . . .” He glanced down at her chest. “A-cup.”“B-cup!”He arched a brow. “You’ll have to prove it.”

“I lie down on my bed, my back to the window, and the tears finally arrive, running down my face, into my ears, onto my pillow. I lie there for a long time, for hours maybe, and right as I'm about to finally drift to sleep I think I hear the flutter of Christian's wings as he flies away.”

“Nor had I any illusions about Algernon Charles Swinburne, who often used to stop my perambulator when he met it on Nurses’ Walk, at the edge of Wimbledon Common, and pat me on the head and kiss me: he was an inveterate pram-stopper and patter and kisser.”

“This is going to make such a great story: How I nursed a pirate back to health and my love saved him," Miss Ohio said with a contented sigh. "And then we can have our own reality show about our relationship."- "Beauty Queens”

“Well, it's like that myth about the hero. He made wings out of wax so he could fly, but when he got too close to the Sun, to God, the wax melted and he crashed to the ground”