...I wore his blood for clothing, on my legs and thighs and hands: a dry, stiff, brown garment with no warmth in it.

“I can never get used to the fact, though I know it, that women are born cynics.…”

“For in this love he now felt there was compassion: without which love is untemp…”

“In absence, presence. In death, life.”

“Living, being in the world, was a much greater and stranger thing than she had …”