“These last few months Vida had started believing in all kinds of strange things she'd have laughed at when we lived back in Avalon. She'd tried every spell she could find in the dusty old books she brought home from thrift shops and garage sales; none of them ever worked, and it was awful watching her try.”

“And sometimes, even though Dad said Dr. Snow was the best psychologist in the city and a very famous man, Jess thought there were things he didn't know either. "Time heals all wounds," he'd said to them once, his voice so soft and thoughtful he could have been talking to himself. It had seemed a cruel thing to say, though Jess knew he hadn't meant to be unkind. Vida had been really angry with him."No, it doesn't!" she shouted. "You're wrong! It doesn't!”

“She looked so disappointed, so grieved and desperate that Clem longed to comfort her, only he couldn't think of thing to say that she hadn't heard a hundred times from Dad and Dr. Snow and Mrs. Mack: how things would get better in time, though no one knew how much time, and that life might be a little better for her and Jess once school began again.”

“Anyway, how can you say things like that? You don't know me at all." She wasn't really caught up in this game, but she was enjoying it, as she had enjoyed the dozens of declarations that had been made to her since she was eleven. Her earliest memories were of being told how beautiful she was. Something in her never believed the words, never felt satisfied. It wasn't modesty; it was a craving for more proof than anyone had ever yet given her. Her mind worked constantly at trying to understand for herself exactly what other people saw when they looked at her. She could never grasp it whole and living. Her deepest fantasy was to step outside of her skin and look at herself and find out just what people were thinking about. She spent her life experimenting with people to see how she could make them react, as if, in their response, she could discover herself.”

“... I also empathized, because she'd tried to do these things out of love, and because she had bumbled the attempt, and I suppose this - the ability to empathize with the people we hate - is exactly the quality that makes us human beings, which makes you wonder why anyone would want to be one.”

“She felt as though she'd acquiesced in her own rape ...”

“By the way," he said, so casually that Lauren was instantly on guard, "a magazine reporter called me this morning. They know who you are and they know we're getting married. When the story breaks, I'm afraid the press will start hounding you.""How did they find out?" Lauren gasped.He shot her a glinting smile. "I told them."Everything was happening so quickly that Lauren felt dazed. "Did you happen to tell them when and where we're getting married?" she chided. "I told them soon." He closed his briefcase and drew her out of the chair in which she had just sat down. "Do you want a big church wedding with a cast of hundreds-or could you settle for me in a little chapel somewhere, with just your family and a few friends? When we come back from our honeymoon we could throw a huge party,and that would satisfy our social obligations to everyone else we know."Lauren quickly considered the burden a big church wedding would place on her father's health and nonexistent finances, and the highly desirable alternative of becoming Nick's wife right away. "You and a chapel," she said."Good." He grinned. "Because I would go quietly insane waiting to make you mine. I'm not a patient man.""Really?" She straightened the knot in his tie so that she'd have an excuse to touch him. "I never noticed that.""Brat," he said affectionately.”