“So this is it ⎯ what cost me all that time. A man who turned out to be old, a house that turned out to be empty.”

“It's turning out to be a bad day, a day when the sun feels like teeth.”

“Danny had no idea what the thing was. All he knew was that he lived more or less in a constant state of expecting something any day, any hour, that would change everything, knock the world upside down and put Danny's whole life into perspective as a story of complete success, because every twist and turn and snag and fuckup would always have been leading up to this. Unexpected stuff could hit him like the thing at first: a girl he'd forgotten giving his number to suddenly calling up out of the blue, a friend with some genius plan for making money, better yet a person he'd never heard of who wanted to talk. Danny got an actual physical head rush from messages like these, but as soon as he called back and found out the details, the calls would turn out to just be about more projects, possibilities, schemes that boiled down to everything staying exactly like it was.”

“We stand there, quiet. My questions all seem wrong: How did you get so old? Was it all at once, in a day, or did you peter out bit by bit? When did you stop having parties? Did everyone else get old too, or was it just you? Are other people still here, hiding in the palm trees or holding their breath underwater? When did you last swim your laps? Do your bones hurt? Did you know this was coming and hide that you knew, or did it ambush you from behind?”

“Jules turned to her, incredulous. 'Do you socialize with Republicans?'"'It happens, Jules.”

“Suddenly I'm scared.That the solar panels were a time machine.That I'm a grown-up woman coming back to this place after many years.That my parents are gone, and our house isn't ours anymore.It's a broken down ruin with no one in it.Living here all together was so sweet.Even when we fought.It felt like it would never end. I'll always miss it.”

“I’m done. I’m old, I’m sad - that’s on a good day. I want out of this mess. But I don’t want to fade away, I want to flame away - I want my death to be an attraction, a spectacle, a mystery. A work of art.”