“It was something like love
From another world that seized her
From behind, and she gave, not lifting her head
Out of dew, without ever looking, her best
Self to that great need.”

“When she listened to songs that she loved on the radio, something stirred inside her. A liquid ache spread under her skin, and she walked out of the world like a witch.”

“I was with this girl the other night and from the way she was responding to my skillful caresses, you would have sworn that she was… conscious. … But I love her from the hair on her head to the tag on her toes.”

“The moon, full orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave…”

“She looked into the staring glass eyes and complacent face, and suddenly a sort of heartbroken rage seized her. She lifted her little savage hand and knocked Emily off the chair, bursting into a passion of sobbing- Sara who never cried.”

“I was and still am her great admirer and fan. She signified to me the epitome of Indian grace and culture. She possessed in her the mischievous streak of that precocious village belle and the spirited movement of a Shiv Tandav. She looked vulnerable and lost, searching for protection in one moment, yet knowledged and mature in another. You felt like protecting and guarding her from all the evil of the world and to gently wipe away any frayed eyebrows that may have accumulated on her face. Her performances were pure and clean, without effort and deliberate design. They were just a part of her - simple and soft.”

“Clearly she was expected to say something, but panic at having to speak stole the thoughts from her head.”

“We are alike in many ways, you and I. There is a darkness in us. Darkness, pain, death. They radiate from us. If ever you love a woman, Rand, leave her and let her find another. It will be the best gift you can give her.”

“He was looking at her from behind the smiling that wasn't smiling but was something you were not supposed to see beyond.”

“She got her looks from her father. He's a plastic surgeon.”