“Perhaps you forgave him too much, but who among us would not wish to be so generously loved and generously forgiven?”

“What is withdrawal?""Let's see, since you know your scripture so well, was that Onan? Yes, that bugger. What he did.""Spilling his seed on the floor?""Yes," continued her husband, "it would be lovely if I could take you and spill my seed somewhere else. Not on the floor, mind you. But perhaps on your very soft belly. Perhaps even on your splendid breasts. and perhaps, if I'm in a really terrible mood, I'll make you swallow it.- Vere to Elissande”

“Dear Bryony,There are many things I wish I had time to tell you, so I will say just this: These past few days have been some of the best days of my life. Because of you.My fervent hope is that you are safe and well as you read this letter. That you will have all the happiness I wish I could have shared with you. And that you will remember me not as a failed husband, but one who was still trying, til the very end.Yours always,Leo”

“Her jaw dropped. She grabbed him by the shoulders. “I think I have formed an attachment to you. You know, what the English call a desire to have symphonic concerts with someone at all hours of the day?”He smiled. “And I love you too, darling.”-Lizzy and Will”

“For the next three seconds, he still dared to let himself hope.Perhaps she was making a grand entrance. Perhaps she would be carried in like Cleopatra, hidden in a roll of fine carpet.Perhaps—Three porters, grunting, pulled in a handcart.A crevasse opened before him and in fell his heart. No need to remove the tarpaulin wrapping. He recognized the stone slabby its size and weight.She had returned his present. She would have nothing more to do with him.”

“Once theexhilaration of their reunion wore off, once the newness of their lovemaking was no longer sonew, how would she see him? No matter how careful he was, invariably someday he woulddo something to make her angry. What then? Would all the old unhappiness rush to the fore?Would she remember that he had once betrayed her and regret that she’d ever given him asecond chance?Or would she protect herself from the beginning by keeping a certain distance from him, sothat their closeness would always fall short of true communion, always denying him that finalforgiveness so that he could never hurt her again?”

“Perhaps unrequited love was like a specter in the house, a presence that brushed at the edge of senses, a heat in the dark, a shadow under the sun.”