“For several long moments we remained locked together, and I think I covered her hair with small sacred kisses, her perfume crucifying me with memories.”

“I stare at her for a long moment. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.”

“The moment I saw her, a part of me walked out of my body and wrapped itself around her. And there it still remains.”

“He knew that hair couldn't feel; he kissed her hair.”

“Lately Marge's memory had grown weak, which is to say that it no longer contained the past time on deposit there, it was not strong enough to keep shut up the moments, the mornings and evenings, of her long life, its seals broke, and her memories ran together mingling, indistinguishable from the present. Her memory had grown incontinent with age.”

“I sought not in her visage, for the tinge of the morning, and the lustre of heaven. These had vanished with life; but I hoped for liberty to print a last kiss upon her lips. This was denied me; for such had been the merciless blow that destroyed her, that not a lineament remained!”

“I want to kiss her without counting the seconds. I want to hold her so long that I get to know her skin. I want, I want, I want.”

“I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful — a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.”

“Everything we need to know is locked up in your head, under those pretty red curls."
Clary reached up to touch her hair protectively. "I dont think-"
"So what are you going to do?" Simon asked sharply. "Cut her head open to get at it?”

“To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.”