“Candace nodded a little too hard. She loved making her ponytail swing.”
“Septimus has been working too hard" - that was all she could say to her own mother. To love makes one solitary, she thought.”
“Her hair looks like mine: dull, flat and stringy. The only difference is that she pulls hers back into a ponytail when she's working outside. Ponytails on guys are lame.”
“Excess of love, did ye say? There was no excess, there was defect. She loved her son too little, not too much. If she had loved him more there'd be no difficulty.”
“She wanted to leave. I loved her too much to make her stay.”
“I love my mom. And this time, I told her I loved her. And she told me she loved me, too. And things were okay for a little while.”