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“But no matter how deadening was this sarcasm of his, a great energy poured out of him, an irrepressible passion. And this drew me to him. I think I loved him. Another two glasses of wine and I might say something absolutely ridiculous like that.”

“I too am impossible, Monsieur,” / “Someday, will you let me come to talk to you and tell me how you killed them all? Only the impossible can do the impossible.”

““I had to find Louis. I had to talk to him. In fact, after reading his account of things, I ached for him, ached for his romantic illusions, and even his dishonesty. I ached even for his gentlemanly malice and his physical presence, the deceptively soft sound of his voice. Of course I hated him for the lied he told about me. But the love was far greater than the hate.“