... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.

You saw my leg?" "How can a man help what he sees?" he said. "And, if I could add, you possess a very fine leg.

You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king. There is no such thing as royal blood. I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.

I couldn't see what was real until time had washed away everything else.

She put a wedge beside my heart And then she brought the mallet down She sang no song to guide her work I lost my heart without a sound

I don't know how you persist in being so stubborn-" "It's a superpower. I was bitten by a radioactive mule.

She touched the healthy folds of skin around the baby's neck, wrists, and thighs, the dark lines crying for life made in his forehead, and thought how people start with wrinkles and end with wrinkles, grow into their skin and then live to grow out of it again.