“By being seldom seen, I could not stir,But, like a comet, I was wondered at...He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded--seen, but with such eyes,As, sick and blunted with community, Afford no extraordinary gaze.”

“She had seen those eyes dark with brooding anger and cold as ice, she'd seen his gaze veiled like a spiderweb and shattering like a gate under pressure. But she'd never seen them as they were now. Full of wondering joy and disbelief, and an almost frightened awe.”

“A writer should be read, not seen, as they seldom are a joy to the eye.”

“This building fool could only be Bess of Hardwicke, a woman whose name is seldom seen in print without the word “redoubtable” in front of it. I wondered if anyone ever called her redoubtable to her face. I redoubted it.”

“His gaze burned into mine, like he could see past my eyes into parts of me no one had ever seen, and I knew I was seeing the same in him. No one else had ever seen him so vulnerable before, like if I pushed him away, he might crumble into pieces that could never be put together again. Yet there was strength, too. He was strong beneath that fragile need, and I knew that I could never fall with him next to me. If I tripped, he would catch me. If I lost my balance, he would find it.”

“I have seen so many extraordinary things, nothing seems extraordinary any more”