“I think it's fair rude to make him a tree and not know what kind he is.”

“Maybe it's a training exercise," Skye suggested, ignoring her friend's rudeness. "I wouldn't mind a little training with him. The personal kind, know what I mean?"It would be hard not to know what she meant.”

“Oh, he's rude to everyone," said Isabelle airily. "It's what makes him so damn sexy.”

“There's a special kind of man who plants a tree when he knows he'll move on before it's big enough for him to sit in it's shade.”

“This is bizarre," I say."I think it's beautiful," he says.I give him a look."What?" He laughs a little. "They each have an equal role in government; they each feel equally responsible. And it makes them care; it makes them kind. I think that's beautiful.”

“It's not fair. It's not fair that he lets his rage take over, that he lets it rule him. I don't know why he has to let it rule him. I don't know why he has to be two people. I don't know why he gets to be two people, and I only get to be me, the one who is here to take what he has to give, and who is here to pick pu the pieces afterward.”