“Creatures that grow up in the wilderness turn out wild.”

“It was unsettling, Laurel thought, suppressing a shiver, how quickly a person's presence could be erased, how easily civilization gave way to wilderness.”

“Had any poet adequately described the wretched ugliness of a loved one turned inside out with grief?”

“. . . happiness grows at our own firesides, . . . . It is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.”

“But happiness ... happiness grows at our own firesides,' she said. 'It is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.”

“The house, she'd explained to them many times, had spoken to her; she'd listened, and it turned out they'd understood one another very well indeed. Greenacres was an imperious old lady, a little worn, to be sure, cranky in her own way-but who wouldn't be?”

“Nighttime is different. Things are otherwise when the world is black. Insecurities and hurts, anxieties and fears grow teeth at night.”