“I gave her a Boston cream pie, even though we were in Seattle at the time.”

“I ate apple pie and ice cream—it was getting better as I got deeper into Iowa, the pie bigger, the ice cream richer. There were the most beautiful bevies of girls everywhere I looked in Des Moines that afternoon—they were coming home from high school—but I had no time for thoughts like that…So I rushed past the pretty girls, and the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.”

“Where subtlety fails us we must simply make do with cream pies.”

“I can’t even think about what life “couldhave been” like in Boston, without crying. It’s like deja-vu, I don’t think meand Boston were ever meant to be.”

“She gave me her bedroom eyes. I know because we were in the kitchen at the time. I hope we’re having pigs in a blanket. Yum!”

“What is was, was that we complemented each other. We just fit in this way that made strangers ask us if we were sisters, even though her hair was blond and curly and mine was straight and dark. Even though her eyes were blue and mine were brown. Maybe it was the way we acted, or spoke, just moved. The way we would look at something and both have the same thought at the same moment, and turn to each other at the same time and start to say the same thing.”