“We are all made of broken glass. The school grinds along on grief and anger.”
“I am becoming used to an overwhelming, grinding mixture of anger and worry...”
“But I've already broken the glass; I've given the green away; I've made my choice.”
“I’d read enough to know that one of the symptoms of grief was a deep anger at the loved one who’d died, anger that impaired your judgement, made you want to scream and curse because they’d left you. But Nick hadn’t died, and I didn’t realize that I was suffering the symptoms of grief.”
“I’m packed with broken glass and memories and it all hurts.”
“Can't believe the school year is almost over," Beth said, in that voice that sounded like a teenage girl who had a throat full of broken glass and lug nuts.”