“Lady Ponsonby was right. The forbidden fruit isn’t shaped like an apple. It’s shaped like a banana.”

“I know every guy here, and they’re all pretty much jerks.”

“Once she called to invite me to a concert of Liszt piano concertos. The soloist was a famous South American pianist. I cleared my schedule and went with her to the concert hall at Ueno Park. The performance was brilliant. The soloist’s technique was outstanding, the music both delicate and deep, and the pianist’s heated emotions were there for all to feel. Still, even with my eyes closed, the music didn’t sweep me away. A thin curtain stood between myself and pianist, and no matter how much I might try, I couldn’t get to the other side. When I told Shimamoto this after the concert, she agreed.”But what was wrong with the performance?” she asked. “I thought it was wonderful.””Don’t you remember?” I said. “The record we used to listen to, at the end of the second movement there was this tiny scratch you could hear. Putchi! Putchi! Somehow, without that scratch, I can’t get into the music!”Shimamoto laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call that art appreciation.””This has nothing to do with art. Let a bald vulture eat that up, for all I care. I don’t care what anybody says; I like that scratch!””Maybe you’re right,” she admitted. “But what’s this about a bald vulture? Regular vultures I know about–they eat corpses. But bald vultures?”In the train on the way home, I explained the difference in great detail.The difference in where they are born, their call, their mating periods. “The bald vulture lives by devouring art. The regular vulture lives by devouring the corpses of unknown people. They’re completely different.””You’re a strange one!” She laughed. And there in the train seat, ever so slightly, she moved her shoulder to touch mine. The one and only time in the past two months our bodies touched.”

“I hate to tell you, dragon, but that’s an integral part of the whole usiness,” he whispered. “If you’re afraid to touch me then we’re not going to get very far.”She lifted her head to look at him. “I thought I could lie back and let you ravish me,” she said with complete honesty.He shook his head, the smile hovering around his lips, his eyes intent. “This is a cooperative effort, my love. You have to do your part.”

“Ah, adventure! Ah, romance! Ah, courtly graces and the noble gestures! Don’t you wish you knew people like that? Don’t you wish we could still walk around in cloaks and boots and breeches, with leather doublets and flowing white dueling shirts and swords strapped around our waists? Of course, if we did, given the way things are today, there’d be people out there lobbying for sword control, and we’d need a National Sword Association and bumper stickers that would read “Swords don’t kill people, knights kill people,” and there would be a five-day waiting period and background check before you could buy a rapier. We’d have drive-by lungings and people would be afraid of children carrying broadswords to school. “Milady” would be regard as a sexist term and feminists would go absolutely berserk if any woman called a man “Milord.” Ralph Nader would probably get quarter horses banned because they are too small and unsafe in a collision and someone would figure out a way to put seat belts and air bags on our saddles. That’s why people join the SCA and read fantasy novels, because the real world sucks.”

“It’s a good thing you’re an aging orphan,” he murmured, gently pushing the hair away from her face. “I don’t have to wait around to get anyone’s permission.””Permission for what, you rat bastard?” she said. “Such language, dragon. I’m afraid you’re going to have to marry me.”

“… you’ve experienced the single scene out there – it’s blood test and background checks and references and ‘Please pee in this cup before we can go on a date’ screenings, all clinical and stripped bare of any romance.”

“It’s the Snickers bars. Snickers equal romance.”

“You are always looking at people like this.” And then she made a face, one he couldn’t possibly begin to describe.“If I ever look like that,” he said dryly, “precisely like that, to be more precise, I give you leave to shoot me.”

“You ever had a hickey? I want to give you a hickey.””Karl, we’re not fourteen!””Don’t bloody care. I was in love with you when I was fourteen — your neck owes me a hickey.”(Karl & Elena)”

“I think he could handle being used. It would be good for him. He’s having trouble sleeping.”

“…Usually i’d sit back and just enjoy the view for what it was because it’s not often you come across something so ridiculously out of place, a girl like you, on the subway, it’s like spotting a unicorn at the zoo.I reasoned how to pull this off, to get you, to say hi, to ask your name, what your voice sounded like, if you had a cute smile because i like cute smiles. In ten minutes I had a thousand thoughts of you and you had no clue…”

“Max – “…Do me a favor, if the constable comes knocking, tell him I was here all morning, will you?”Dodsley – “Killed someone again, did we?”Max- “Never before luncheon, Dodsley. It’s still early yet.”

“Jenny: But surely Lord Blakely could not abandon his estates for so long.Gareth: No. Lord Blakely could not. Not unless he had someone he could trust to run his estates in his absence. And Lord Blakely…Well, Lord Blakely did not trust anyone.Jenny: Lord Blakely is talking about himself in the third person, past tense. Its disturbing.”

“After 44 years of marriage, isn’t it amazing when you can look at your partner sound asleep next to you and still believe they have potential.”