“There is inside itsomething sun.”

“...most words for ghost are pieces of mica that carefully layeredwill make a window out of fire. It's cold and the faces at the windowdo what faces usually do they open onto a genetic historythat looks up suddenly and it's the eyes everyone says you can't say that's not alive”

“Or a ghost is a knot in the otherwise smooth flow of time, an electrical storm in a jewelry box, grief perfectly aligned. And sometimes a ghost is a shared thing; sometimes the entire population of a city or country will just happen to look in the mirror at the same time, and from then on there was a city in the sky, as all cities are if we consider that the sky reaches to the ground, and this city, too, thought it was alive, and the candles walked off by themselves.”

“But he was wrong about the sun—I didn’t need it. All the sun in the world wouldn’t stop a flower from dying—if it had no one to care for it.”

“He grinned lightly at me and I smiled back. Lord I loved this man. His smile was as bright as the sun.”

“It was a year ago today your daughter went missing.’ Bagg had closed his eyes, feeling the death going on inside.”

“Because tonight is perfect. The sun is really setting now and it’s beautiful. The oranges and reds and golds are shining over the horizon and onto our skin and everything is romantic and dreamy. It’s like a dream, actually. I lean up and kiss Dante’s cheek and he smells like the ocean and the salt and the sun. And maybe the woodsy scent of the olive groves. I sigh. There’s no way that life gets any better than this. I settle back into his side for the drive and he wraps his arm around me.”