“I never said I was good,” he told her, taking the pen. “Just that I liked doing it.”“That’s the best kind of good.”

“You know what they say," Dad said. "If you love something set it free.""What if he doesn't come back?""Something do, somethings don't," he said, reaching to tweak her nose. "I'll always come back to you anyway.""You don't light up," Hadley said, but Dad only smiled."I do when I'm with you.”

“Emily tucks her knees up beneath her and leans forward on the table. 'Do you like Ryan?' she asks Nick, and Mom's eyes go wide. Kevin chokes a little on his water. Mortified, Ryan looks away, holding her breath.Nick turns to Emily, and with mock seriousness, leans down to consult with her. 'Do you like Ryan?'Emily considers this a moment, tapping a finger against her lips in thought. 'I guess most of the time,' she says finally. 'I guess she's okay.''Then I think so too' he says, turning back to the rest of the table. He winks at Ryan. 'We've decided you're okay.'She breathes out. 'I can live with that.”

“It wasn't that we forgot. But things like that sometimes get stored away, and there never seems to be a good time to dig them up again. It hurts a lot less to keep them buried. That doesn't make it right, but it's just the way it is.”

“The stories had become a part of her by then; they stuck to her bones like a good meal, bloomed inside of her like a garden. They were as deep and meaningful as any other trait Dad had passed along to her: her blue eyes, her straw-colored hair, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.”

“Because I was with you," he tells her. "I feel better when I'm with you.”

“Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it?”