“He would go to the bakery for a cake, and somewhere in the shop-I had never discovered where; it was one of the few secrets I had not fathomed-he kept a candle, which came out on this day every year, was lit, and which I blew out, with as good an impression of happiness as I could muster. Then we ate the cake, with tea, and settled down to quiet digestion and cataloging.”

“The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.”

“I did work in a bakery for one day. But the boss went off and when he came back I was lying on the floor eating cakes.”

“Life was a cake that looked good on the bakery shelf but turned to sawdust and salt when I ate it.”

“I had one too," Daniel said. He was quiet for a minute. "Do you think after Trenton, we could get married and settle down in an apartment in New York City or somewhere? I could be an industrial designer, and you could fight crime like a part-time ninja assassin." I almost laughed, but then I stopped myself, because I knew it would come out as a sob. I was quiet for a while as I composed myself. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, that would be awsome.”

“It (suicide) became a possibility like Maybe when I grow up, I will be dead. Life was a cake that looked good on the bakery shelf but turned to sawdust and salt when I ate it.”