“This house is about two dictionaries away from caving in,' she'd say, 'and you're buying duplicates?”

“When you're on the other side of it," she says, "fifty-two years can seem like about fifty-two minutes.”

“I can't believe you're here," she says, her voice soft. "I can't believe you found me.""You found me first," he says, and when he leans to kiss her, it's slow and sweet and she knows that this will be the one she always remembers. Because while the other two kisses felt like endings, this one is unquestionably a beginning.”

“Hi,' he says.'Hi,' she says back, and then to her great surprise, she begins to cry.'You know,' Nick says as he hands her a tissue from the bedside table,' for all this talk about how you don't cry, you sure are sprouting a lot of water.”

“Beside her, Oliver is craning his neck to read the signs for customs, already thinking about the next thing, already moving on. Because that's what you do in planes. You share an armrest with someone for a few hours. You exchange stories about your life, an amusing anecdote or two, maybe even a joke. You comment on the weather and remark about the terrible food. And then you say goodbye.”

“Emma knew that she'd always been on the wrong side of the line that separated her from her parents, from Patrick and Annie and Nate, even from Peter. But how could she tell him that the reason she always acted so disinterested in everything was because of the worry that she herself wasn't all that interesting?”

“And in August it will be fifty-two years together.”“Wow,” Oliver says. “That’s amazing.”“I wouldn’t call it amazing,” the woman says, blinking. “It’s easy when you find the right person.”