Love. Such a lot of damn fuss. - M. K. Hobson

In his idle hours, Heusler sometimes amused himself by trying to conceive of a crime a mortal man could commit that was more monstrous than making a goddess fall in love with him. He had never succeeded.

It was disappointing, as if a wish she didn’t know she’d made hadn’t come true.

“I wasn’t sure if we were still engaged.”
“After everything we’ve been through? After true love conquered all?” Emily shook her head. “Being dead had done nothing to alleviate your obtuseness, Mr. Stanton.”
“Being dead allowed me to learn the heart’s deepest secret,” he said. “That sometimes love—even true love—isn’t enough.”
”But it’s a start,” Emily said.