“But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.”

“I swear on the Angel." He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. "The hell with that. I swear on us.”

“She answered by standing and kissing him first and held his cheeks and closed her eyes and felt sure as bones and deep as blood that she had found her place.”

“I swear on the Angel.” He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. “The hell with that.
I swear on us.”
Clary wound her fingers into the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Why us?”
“Because there isn’t anything I believe in more.”

“When you deal with a man, deal with his most valuable possession, his life. There's play and there's the deep flow. I like to take things to the deep flow of play, because everything is a game, serious and nonserious at the same time. So play life like it's a game.”

“A woman materialises behind Prospero -- leaning lightly on the back of his chair -- she is alternately a Titianesque nude and then the Vesalius figure -- flayed … she leans lightly over and kisses Prospero on the cheek. The kiss leaves a blood-red mark on his withered cheek. Prospero shivers.”

“He kissed his son, and a tear fell from his cheek on to the ground, for he had restrained all tears till now.”

“Don't play his game. Play yours.”

“We need clear rules to play the game. We need to have respect for the law. If you play a chess game but after two or three moves you can change the rules, how can people play with you? Of course you will win, but after 60 years you will still be a bad player because you never meet anyone who can challenge you. What kind of game is that? Is that interesting? This game is not right, but who is going to say, 'Hey, let’s play fairly?”

“The Socratic manner is not a game at which two can play.”