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“At what moment?" she asked him. "At what moment do we cease to be humans and become objects?" Blaise continued to make his way in silence, carrying the lamp at arm's length to spread its light as far as possible. When he finally replied, it was in a different voice from usual, deeper, calmer, and without the slightest stutter: "Some humans are objects while they're alive, Mademoiselle Eulalia.”

“I believe neither in luck nor in destiny,” he declared. “I trust only the science of probabilities. I have studied mathematical statistics, combinatorial analysis, mass function, and random variables, and they have never held any surprises for me. You don’t seem fully to grasp the destabilizing effect that someone like you can have on someone like me.”

“Leggere un oggetto significa dimenticare un po' se stessi per fare posto al passato di un altro, mentre attraversare gli specchi significa affrontare se stessi. Ci vuole fegato per guardarsi negli occhi, vedersi per ciò che si è, immergersi nel proprio riflesso. Quelli che si mettono un velo davanti alla faccia, che mentono a se stessi e si vedono migliori di ciò che sono non ce la faranno mai. Credimi, non è cosa da tutti!”

“She kissed his scars, first the one cutting through his eyebrow, then the one cutting into his cheek, and finally the one cutting across his temple. With each contact, Thorn's eyes widened. His muscles, conversely, tightened. "Fifty-six." He cleared his throat to make his voice less hoarse. Ophelia had never seen him so intimidated, despite his efforts not to show it. "Thats the number of my scars." She closed and then reopened her eyes. She felt it again, even more violently, this urgent call from inside her. "Show them to me.”

“When Thorn finally pulled away, short of breath, it was to stare sternly straight through her glasses. "I warn you, the words you said to me, I won't let you go back on them." His voice was harsh, but underlining the authority of his words, there was some sort of crack. Ophelia could see the quickened pulse in the hands he was awkwardly pressing to her cheeks. She had to admit her own heart was swinging to and fro. Thorn was, without doubt, the most disconcerting man she'd ever met. But he did make her feel wonderfully alive. "I love you," she repeated firmly.”