“Her letter bled from word to word, in three sour sentences.”

“A girl?" Her mother looked at her, curiously, as if the word were unknown to her; ancient and puzzling as an artifact behind a glass encasement.”

“There are no words for the sight of a smiling face.”

“She looked up and saw the right angles of time above her as the clock hit three.”

“I can’t even think about words because the sunset stole them all.”

“His words were rare, full conversations with him even rarer, as if Parker were one of his students that he did not want to indulge with conversation after class.”

“Parker let the letter drop to the floor, an act she often criticized in movies for its melodrama.”