“No one is going to hear what she says whether she speaks or not. Simply she could close her eyes and never speak again. She could suck all of the air in this room-every dust mote, every atom-into her body and hide it inside her…”

“The first shot causes warm rain to fall on Diana's arms from the sky. The second plants a mirrored jewel in the left temporal lobe of her brain…a place she could have named on a quiz but which now seems to be the place where the future is imagined, the place where what would have been is.”

“Home"It would take forever to get therebut I would know it anywhere:My white horse grazing in my blossomy field.Its soft nostrils. The petalsfalling from the trees into the stream.The festival would be about to beginin the dusky village in the distance. The doefrozen at the edge of the grove:She leaps. She vanishes. My face—She has taken it. And my name—(Although the plaintive lark in the tallgrass continues to say and to say it.)Yes. This is the place.Where my shining treasure has been waiting.Where my shadow washes itself in my fountain.A few graves among the roses. Some mosson those. An ancientbell in a steeple down the roadmaking no sound at allas the monk pulls and pulls on the rope.”

“The blond stuffs her hairbrush, which is now spun with gold and black silk (a miniature angel's nest) back into her backpack next to her anthology of English literature. The pages are so thin, they're like dead girls' dreams, translucent skin. On them it seems that everything that has ever been thought has been written.”

“Heartbreak could be lived with if it weren't accompanied by regret.”

“We can talk to one another on telephones in banks, in cars, in line. No more sitting on the floor attached to a cord while everybody listens. No more standing outside the booth in the cold, fingering an adulterous dime. Wesend each other mail without stamps. Watch television without antennas. Wear seatbelts, smoke less, and never on a bus, never in the lobby while we’re waiting for the lawyer to call on us.Nowhere now, a typewriter ribbon. Quaintly the record album’s scratch and spin. Our groceries, scanned. Pump our own gas. Take off our shoes before boarding our plane. Those towers: Gone. And Pluto’s no longer a planet: Forget it. I could go onand on, but you’re still dead and nothing’s any different.”

“Hey, Megan?"She peeked one lid open. "Hmm?""Can we have ice cream for breakfast?"Her mouth curved into a grin. She couldn't think of anyone, save maybe Kate, who could draw a smile from her so quickly. But he was just unexpectedly adorable. "Maybe. If you're a good boy." She cringed. Why the hell did she say that? Was she...flirting with him? Restraining a grimace, she chanced a look at him. His dark gaze shifted from playful to scorching. "And what would that entail?"Heat shot through her body, and unfamiliar desire pooled in her belly. Flustered, she kicked off the top cover. "Not asking questions like that, to start. Now go back to sleep. It's too damn early to be awake."She heaved a deep breath to calm her racing heart ."if you say so." Even with his eyes closed, a smile continued to play around his lips.”