“What would she have? Coke, said Annie. And when she tasted the familiar drink, how much less scary the world was, and how much less frightening her task.”

“How much easier my life would be if I did not love you! I thought. How much less painful, but how much plainer. How much less color there would be in the world.”

“She had too much of everything, and so she longed to have less; less, she was sure, would bring her happiness. To me it was a laugh and a relief to observe the unhappiness that too much can bring; I had been so used to observing the reults of too little.”

“She has a particular penchant for mentally noting how much I drink, how much I eat, how much exercise I get, and the like. These specifics all fall within her purview. So in truth, I don’t remember how much I drink; it's not my job.”

“When she set Shane’s glass of Coke down in front of him, she did it with probably a little too much emphasis; he glanced up at her with a question-mark expression.[...] ‘‘What?’’ Shane asked her, and took a drink. ‘‘Did I forget to say thanks? Because, thanks. Best Coke ever. Did you make it yourself? Special recipe?”

“I guess it's a choice we make," she said."What's a choice?" I asked.And she said, "How much of the world we let in.”