“Constantin Demiris had arranged with the authorities for her body to be buried on the grounds of the cemetery on Psara, his private island in the Aegean. Everyone had remarked on what a beautiful, sentimental gesture it was. In fact, Demiris had arranged for the burial plot to be there so that he could have the exquisite pleasure of walking over the bitch's grave.”

“... the slightest smile on her face, almost a smugness, as if she had some secret arrangement with my body that I'd never understand, something dark and faminine and private and it excited me to think that she might know some part of me so well, so instinctively.”

“And he raised his glass to her. It could have been a compliment. Or the most sarcastic gesture anyone had ever made to her.”

“It's so beautifully arranged on the plate - you know someone's fingers have been all over it.”

“What was war really like? What vast crack had buried Jeff down in the mud, had sent Andy off with cattle? What had changed her best friend so much he could barely look at her now?”

“Some women have become far too proscriptive of other women's pleasures and private arrangements, and the definition of feminism has become ideologically overloaded.”