“To her amazement, she realized that the way of life of these people was nothing more than an indeterminate fiction, casually knotted together at particular points that were used again and again. With four or five remarks, and a couple of facial expressions, she had mastered it with no problem at all.”

“She would make facial expressions as though she were having conversations with people in her head.They seemed to turn into debates more often than not,judging by the activity on her forehead...It was almost the conversations in her head were loud enough to fill her silence.”

“Renaissance,” Alice’s husband said casually. “A rebirth? Like you guys have been able to start again now that you’re together?”Cali shook her head. “No. We haven’t started again. The Renaissance was about maturity,” she explained, using the words Kent had spoken to her in the Landon Industries vault more than a year ago. “So, instead of a rebirth, this is us growing into ourselves. It’s the culmination of all the years we lived before we decided to live them together.”

“At that point I asked myself: How is it that she is not amazed at herself, that she keeps her lips closed and makes no such remark?”

“Trace started on his way again, this time taking the lead. "She's five-four and weighs less than one-twenty. Matt can handle himself.""Says the man with the black eye.”

“Later, she would remember these years, and realize with astonishment that she had, by fifteen, decided on most of the assumptions she would carry for the rest of her life: that people were essentially not evil, that perfection was death, that life was better than order and a little chaos good for the soul. Most important, this life was all. Unfortunately, she forgot these things, and had to remember them the hard way.”