“Ruthie started to cry at Julia's use of the word "hate," though Ruthie knew it was true, accurate. For a long time now it had been easier just to hate her sister. Easier to try to define the relationship with that simple emotion than to live with the conflicting set of feelings Julia brought forth.”

“How do I tell her that what I want is to know her, to know the woman who made these birds, to see what she might become if she is allowed to spread out, to expand. How do I say, Darling, please. Don't shrink yourself so soon.”

“Behold the power of my pen”

“Grandma Ruthie and her sister Jettie hadn't spoken a civil word in about fifteen years. Their last exchange was Ruthie's leaning over Jettie's coffin and whispering, "If you'd married and had children, there would be more people at your funeral." Of course, at the reading of Aunt Jettie's will, Grandma Ruthie was handed an enveloped containing a carefully folded high-resolution picture of a baboon's butt. That pretty much summed up their relationship.”

“My grandma Ruthie, Jettie's sister, had been married four times, so many times I started calling every old man I saw at the grocery store Grandpa.”

“He, unfortunately for himself, had been beautifully brought up. His teacher had educated him as the child is educated in the womb, where it lives the history of man from fish to mammal--and, like the child in the womb, he had been protected with love meanwhile. The effect of such an education was that he had grown up without any of the useful accomplishments for living--without malice, vanity, suspicion, cruelty, and the commoner forms of selfishness. Jealousy seemed to him the most ignoble of vices. He was sadly unfitted for hating his best friend or torturing his wife. He had been given too much love and trust to be good at these things.”

“Use me, Grace. If that’s what we’ve been doing so far, I love it. I want to be used. Now.’ He stretched, a long ripple of pure muscle as he invited her in a throaty purr that wrapped itself around her heart and drew her irresistibly towards him, the craving stronger than anger or fear. ‘You can insult me, hurt me, hate me… test me any way you like. I’m strong. I’m not going to run away just because things aren’t perfect between us…”