“It could not always be love in the afternoon and passion in the night, gifts given, notes written, meals fed to each other. It can't all be like that.”

“Love is born with the pleasure of looking at each other Is fed with the necessity of seeing each other It is concluded with the impossibility of separation.”

“Like animals we call to each other," was the thought that came to him as he remembered the hour of love in the afternoon.”

“The obsession was gone. We liked each other, even loved each other. And our sex was still good, but the hunger was gone. Either it just wore out or we wore each other out. A passion like that pushes everything else out of its path. You can't be married and have jobs and children and work and write and have something like an emotional bubonic plague.”

“Maybe they were back to not talking. That's what she missed the most: talking. Serious, silly, bone-deep, flippant, all their words and thoughts like gifts to each other, the only gifts they, with their hobbled hearts, could give.”

“The only reason there's such a thing as a morning in the first place is to keep night and afternoon from bumping into each other.-Kheldar”