I want you to leave your incidental Dick, and this awful hole, and come to live with me, and die with me, and everything with me. - Vladimir Nabokov

I adore you, mon petit, and would never allow him to hurt you, no matter how gently or madly.

Knight seemed to him to be constantly playing some game of his own invention, without telling his partners its rules.

She might be a little introverted, livelier of movement than of conversation, neither bashful nor forward, with a soul that seemed submerged, but in a radiant moistness. Opalescent on the surface but translucent in her depths…