“Bridget cried for the leavers and the left. For the people, like herself, grimly forsaking what precious gifts they would ever get.”

“There was one thing Bridget like about guys. They took insults well.”

“Greta was squinting at the Pants. "Are those yours?" she asked.Bridget nodded."Would you like me to wash 'em for you? A little bleach would clean that whole mess right off them."Bridget looked aghast. "No! No, thank you" she cradled them protectively. "I like them how they are."Greta clucked and shook her head. "To each, her own," she muttered.You have no magic in you, Bridget thought.”

“Bridget saw chaos.”

“What made you feel that stomach-churning agony for one person and not another? If Bridget were God, she would have made it against the law for you to feel that way about someone without them having to feel it for you right back.”

“Tibby, who was not fond of change, had once told Bridget that the present, no matter what it brought, couldn't change the past. The past was set and sealed.”

“What was it about Eric? He was handsome and talented, yeah. But lots of guys were. She had adored Billy Klein back in Alabama the summer before, and she had even felt attracted to him, but it wasn't like this. What made you feel that stomach-churning agony for one person and not another? If Bridget were God, she would have made it against the law for you to feel that way about someone without them having to feel it for you right back.”