I remembered the pain as clearly as if I were shifting — the pain of loss. I felt the agony of the single moment that I lost myself. Lost what made me Sam. The part of me that could remember Grace's name.

I think that whenever a book is not a challenge, I'm telling the wrong story.

I have a certain avoidance of reality that makes fantasy an ideal choice for me.

She reached down and traced my eyebrows. 'You do have really beautiful eyes.' 'We get to keep them,' I said. Grace started at my voice. 'What?' 'It's the one thing we keep. Our eyes stay the same.' I unclenched my fists. 'I was born with these eyes. I was born for this life.

It was mint and memories and the past and the future and she felt as if she’d done this before and already she longed to do it again.

I don't think I ever believed in love, not really. Just though it was something James Bond made up, a long time ago, to get laid.

When you traffic in monsters, that's the risk you run, that you'll find one too monstrous to stomach.