“...as a woman who was raised with the idea that the world was at my fingertips, that anything I wanted could be mine for the taking, on the eve of my thirtieth birthday I am ready to stand up and say that trying to have it all is not all it's cracked up to be.”

“My troubles are all over, and I am at home; and often before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends under the apple trees.”

“How many times in the past three months have I been reminded of Ruby's two selves, the careful courteous young woman who spoke so sweetly to strangers and the person she let loose at home, where she was safe, where she could be spiky and harsh and uncertain and at sea? I have two selves now, too, the one that goes out in the world and says what sound like the right things and nods and listens and sometimes even smiles, and the real woman, who watches her in wonder, who is nothing but a wound, a wound that will not stop throbbing except when it is anesthetized. I know what the world wants: It wants me to heal. But to heal I would have to forget, and if I forget my family truly dies.”

“During the terrible years of the Yekhov terror I spent seventeen months in the prison queues in Leningrad. One day someone ‘identified’ me. Then a woman with lips blue with cold who was standing behind me, and of course had never heard of my name, came out of the numbness which affected us all and whispered in my ear—(we all spoke in whispers there): ‘Could you describe this?’I said, ‘I can!’Then something resembling a smile slipped over what had once been her face.”

“I didn't want the sun to rise. I didn't want the world to continue turning. I wanted the whole planet put into stasis until I could catch up.”

“I hated the idea of such a glorious creature beating itself to death in pursuit of something it could never have. It was, after all, just a light. The moth had no idea why it wanted it, only that it did.I paused at the window. “You’re just like them you know. You want the light so bad because you think it’s wonderful, and power-ful, and the answer to all of your little moth dreams, but in reality it is just a deadly desire. No matter what you do, no matter how bad you want it, you can never have it. Don’t you see? The light will bring you nothing but death.”Slowly, I opened my hand again. “Now, go, live your life. Find another moth and make little moth babies, and stop chasing light fixtures,” I instructed, raising my hand toward the stars. Once again, the moth watched me, then fluttered its wings and took off. This time, it flew away, disappearing into the dark. I leaned my head against the window frame, watching, think-ing, wondering if the little critter would ever find happiness. It didn’t take long to get an answer. There, on the other side of the parking lot, was the moth, buzzing wildly against a street light. I began to cry. “I know how you feel, little one,” I sobbed. “No matter what happens, no matter how wrong it is, my heart wants what it wants. I’m just like you, and they are my light.”

“All I'm saying is I think you deserve better,” Case said. “From my point of view, anyway. You deserve better.”I threw my head back on the sofa and laughed. It was a harsh laugh with no mirth. “Most of the time, I don't think I deserve better.”“Everyone deserves better.”“Not me.” I didn't look at him. “No one else would want me. I've royally fucked up. Everything. There isn't anything better out there. Anything or anyone.”“Yeah, there is.” “Oh, really?” I brought my eyes back to him. “And where exactly would I find better?” It was quiet for a moment. Then he said,“Well, you might start with me.”