It was like the color of his eyes, she supposed - not quite one shade or another, and utterly unlike anyone else's.

She thought of Henry and Diana on the stoop gazing at each other with the confusion and sadness of two puppies who have just stumbled into their first puddle and not yet come to understand what has happened to them and found that she wanted to lie extravagantly.

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples...

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color...

After Henry's treatment of her she wasn't sure that men could honestly love women but she wanted to believe it. She wanted to be told pretty things and for the frightening clip of her heart to slow to something more reasonable.

I can't imagine what my life was before. I can't imagine ever being without you for very long again.