“...A madeleine moment - a sound, a scent can incant her presence...”

“Every day stole away more of her presence, leaving in its place faint wisps of memories devoid of color, scent, and sound.”

“The words sounded like a mournful incantation.”

“...yes, I am your priest, your magician, your lover - I make charms to incant your presence...”

“She'd become an English major for the purest and dullest of reasons: because she liked to read. The university’s “British and American Literature Course Catalog” was, for Madeleine, what its Bergdorf equivalent was for her roommates. A course listing like “English 274: Lily’s Euphues” excited Madeleine the way a pair of Fiorucci cowboy boots did Abby. “English 450A: Hawthorne and James” filled Madeleine with an expectation of sinful hours in bed not unlike what Olivia got from wearing a Lycra skirt and leather blazer in Danceteria. Even as a girl in their house in Prettrybrook, Madeleine wandered into the library, with its shelves of books rising higher than she could reach … and the magisterial presence of all those potentially readable words stopped her in her tracks.”

“...Absorbed in the new scents, the sounds, and the sunlight...”