“This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock built when peace filled the world.”

“The moment I see her, there’s a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert. This was something sure to be crammed full of warmth secrets, like an antique clock built when peace filled the world.”

“On that last day, somewhere ahead, inside an unseasonably warm winter night, he’ll say my name and leave a hole no one can fill – something to hold onto when my hands are full.”

“Antiquity is full of eulogies of another more remote antiquity.”

“It was kind of a beautiful day, finally real summer in Indianapolis, warm and humid--the kind of weather that reminds you after a long winter that while the world wasn't built for humans, we were built for the world.”

“That moment. That instant when your fingers curl round the handles of a shiny, uncreased bag—and all the gorgeous new things inside it become yours. What’s it like? It’s like going hungry for days, then cramming your mouth full of warm buttered toast. It’s like waking up and realizing it’s the weekend. It’s like the better moments of sex. Everything else is blocked out of your mind. It’s pure, selfish pleasure.”