“What do you think of that? It’s stopped raining."
I’m glad Jay." Her throat, full of aching, grieving beauty, told only of her unexpected joy.”

“Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.”

“His dress told her nothing, but his face told her things which she was glad to know.”

“Happily common sense, though she is by nature the gentlest creature living, when she feels the knife at her throat, is apt to develop unexpected powers of resistance, and to send doctrinaires flying, even when they have bound her down and think they have her at their mercy.”

“What are you doing here?" she asked.
"You forgot something when you left Halstead Hall," he said hoarsely.
"What?"
Her heart lept into her throat as he strode purposefully toward her. "Me.”

““You're such a liar.”
“But I’m a beautiful liar, don’t you think?” She flashed her best smile at her friend.
“I don’t understand what men see in women anyway,” her friend answered. “Hexes or no hexes, as long as a woman has her clothes on a man can’t see what he’s interested in anyhow.””

“It is stupid to grieve for the loss of a girl friend: you might never have met her, so you can do without her.”

“How do you make a girl know she's beautiful? What is the system for that, what do you show her, how do you give her a new set of eyes and turn her face back to the mirror?”

“She is a girl so I wouldn’t slap her. I would lock her in a room full of spiders and let her think about what she’s doing to the youth of America.”

“Her own grief grieved her. His devastated her.”