“Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.”
“Daughters. They were sometimes as familiar and intimate as honeysuckles in bloom, but mostly daughters were mysteries. They lived in rooms you had long since abandoned and could not, did not, ever want to reenter.”
“Why is it always the world? Why is it never just half a block? Or Jersey? You know, something we could live without?”
“Writer's block? I've never heard of a plumber complain about plumber's block.”
“Maureen clapped her hands together. "Oh," she said in her elfin little voice. "It's pretty." "Pretty?" Simon looked quickly at the hunched shape on top of the concrete block. "Maureen, what the hell-”
“A thousand plastic flowers don't make a desert bloom. A thousand empty faces don't fill an empty room".”