He remembers when he was very small his mother once said she wished happiness and adventure for him. If this does not count as adventure, he is not sure what does.

I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.

Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.

Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.

He spends the majority of the evening in the company of Celia Bowen, whose elaborate gown changes color, shifting through a rainbow of hues to compliment whoever she is closest to.

We are two different people, Ethan. Just because you could never decide which one of us you were in love with does not make us interchangeable.

And then he tells her stories. Myths he learned from his instructor. Fantasies he created himself, inspired by bits and pieces of others read in archaic books with crackling spines.