" He stared at her for a long moment. And then his eyes suddenly narrowed. "So there is your passion, then. Dried into the paint."

"Yes," she said. "Very good; you are hearing me clearly at least."

His laughter was abrupt. "Your grisaille had better be damned good, then." She lifted her brow, and he said, "Dimensionality, my dear. How uncomfortable it would be, to have your love confined to two dimensions. "

― Meredith Duran