He laughed. A strained, ha, ha, ha, I may die of this laugh.

A hint of sensual frustration roughened his voice. “And I will curse the gods along with them, Min. Some wild monsoon raged through me as I looked at you just now. It’s left me rearranged inside, and I don’t have a map.

Cleverness is like rouge - liberal application makes a woman look common and desperate. Wit is knowing how to apply it.

I know how mirrors work. They're all in league with the cosmetics trade. They tell a woman lies. Drawing her gaze from one imagined flaw to another, until all she sees is a constellation of imperfections. If you could get outside yourself, borrow my eyes for just an instant... There is only beauty.

Oh no. Don't smile. You'll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.

She’d always wondered what it would feel like to stand on one end of a ballroom and watch a handsome, powerful man make his way to her. This was as close as she’d ever come to it, she supposed. Standing at Diana’s side. Imagining.

What is the world coming to, with these modern women? A man can't tell them what to do.