"The beginning and the end of love are both marked by embarrassment when the two find themselves alone. [Fr., Le commencement et le declin de l'amour se font sentir par l'embarras ou l'on est de se trouver seuls.]"

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I gave him a smile that I hoped was as dazzling as one of his. "I realized I'm in love." Marcus, startled, looked around as though he expected to see my object d'amour in the car with us. "And you just realized this? Did you just have some sort of vision?" "Didn't need to," I said, thinking of Wolfe's ill-fated trip to the Orkneys. "It's always been right in front of me.

— Richelle Mead