Sometimes love was not about winning, but about wise sacrifice and the realiability of friends like Arianne. Friendship, Roland realized, was its very own kind of love.

He had the innate sense that something bad was just around the bend, but a hope that something incredible was waiting in the distance. It had to be. His burning love for her cursed through him until he felt so full he didn’t know whether he would fit through the portal.

As far as possible, Arianne realized, each soul had to be content alone before plunging into love, because one never knew when the other would move out of that love. It was the greatest paradox: Souls need each other, but they also need to not need each other.

Cam was so much clearer, easier to figure out. Like he was algebra and Daniel was calculus.

Because love and hate were supposed to stand cleanly on opposite sides of the spectrum. The division seemed as clear as...well, angels and demons would once have seemed to her. Not anymore.

I've already had to wait so long." "How long?" Luce asked. "Not so long that I've forgotten that you're worth everything. Every sacrifice. Every pain.

People who are chronically tardy never understand the many ways in which they screw up the schedules of people who are punctual and 'normal'.