“It's easy to believe in God when you wake up every morning knowing you are completely and unconditionally loved.”

“It's not morning until you're awake. And it's not night until you're asleep in your bed under my roof. And I could go on and on but hope is a horrible thing, and I love you too much to give you any.”

“Broken love is the most dangerous love. It will slice you open with every touch.”

“This was our house. Mine and hers. I know she’d sneak over to the rectory every once in a while and let you wail on her for a night. But I got her the rest of the time. I cooked her breakfast. I answered her fan mail. I put her to bed when she fell asleep at her desk writing. I rubbed her back when she was sore from overworking herself. And when she got all wrought up over you, it was me she cried on. No, she and I never had sex. That’s true. But we had love, real love that didn’t take anything out of us, that didn’t bruise us or break us. I loved her without hurting her. You asked me if I, a virgin, could teach her what sex should be? No, course not. Hell no. But at least I can teach her what love should be like. And she knows it too.”

“It's like a gay man being married to a straight woman. No matter how much he loves her, it's a sacrifice every moment they're together. The sex is secondary to the sacrifice.”

“I’ll come back,” she promised. “I’ll always come back to you.”“I know,” he said with cold, calm arrogance. “If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t let you go.”“Believe it. It’s true.” She took a step back. Then another. “Always.”“Eleanor, if you have any mercy in that dark heart of yours, when you leave right now, you willwalk and not run.”... ...crawl and she didn’t fly.She ran. Down the hall she ran as if the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. She ran as if Godhimself had ordered her to. She ran as if her life depended on it and in that moment she mighthave sworn that it did.She didn’t know why she ran. She didn’t know who or what waited for her in the White Room.She only knew she had to get there as fast as she could and whoever it was, he was worthrunning to.”

“My name is Søren.” Kingsley nodded and prepared words of his own. “Je t’aime,” he replied in the language God spoke. I love you.”