If it was a sin for you to choose me . . . then I would go to the Devil himself and bless him for tempting ye to it.

This is our time. Until that time stops - for one of us, for both – it is our time. Now. Will you waste it, because you are afraid?

Overall, the library held a hushed exultation, as though the cherished volumes were all singing soundlessly within their covers.

While ye sleep in my arms, I can say things to ye that would be daft and silly waking, and your dreams will know the truth of them.

I had one last try. "Does it bother you that I'm not a virgin?" He hesitated a moment before answering. "Well, no," he said slowly, "so long as it doesna bother you that I am." He grinned at my drop-jawed expression, and backed toward the door. "Reckon one of us should know what they're doing," he said. The door closed softly behind him; clearly the courtship was over.

I can bear pain myself, he said softly, but I couldna bear yours. That would take more strength than I have.

And if Time is anything akin to God, I suppose that Memory must be the Devil.