...that once were urgent and necessary for an orderly world and now were buried away, gathering dust and of no use to anyone.

What do you think love is - a thing to startle from the heart like a bird at every shout or blow? You can fly from me, high as you choose into your darkness, but you will see me always beneath you, no matter how far away, with my face turned to you. My heart is in your heart. I gave it to you with my name that night and you are its guardian, to treasure it, or let it whither and die. I do not understand you. I am angry with you. I am hurt and helpless, but nothing will fill the ache of the hollowness in me where your name would echo if I lost you.

Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart.

Love is an obsolete emotion, ranking in usefulness somewhere between earwigs and toe mold.

Then you will have to trust me. Beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond hope, trust me.

What?" It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow.

Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places.