“Everybody was dying, or already dead, or leaving other people, and the year was dying into winter, and the only thing to do was make some noise.”

“Clary knew what made the parents around her cry, more or less openly: that everything must grow and change and--rather than being set free--must die, all these children too. We die, they will die, their children will be dead. We resist mourning, because we know we will have to mourn soon enough, and the resistance makes us weep.”

“Fear is always with us: that we are not good enough or strong enough, and so will fail; that we will be hurt. Fear that what we love will be taken from us. Fear of dying, even fear of God, or of no God. But God surprises us by giving us strength to bear what we must; by giving us joy when we think that nothing but sadness is possible.”

“She drove down the street, talking to herself furiously. I loved them too much. God is punishing me for loving people the way I should love God. Something was wrong there, too, that God would punish her, but she could not be bothered to think it through, because she was tired of God. Demand, demand, demand, and never any good to come of it except loneliness and despair, it was all--Enough. She'd had enough of all this. She would have revenge. She would go to movies by herself again, and go out for dinner wherever she wanted, and she would have a tidy house and a little job.”

“It's been a great gig. In this roistering life there a multitude of partings and meetings-I will look for you along the way-”

“It was involvement that put you into time, perhaps.”

“When we came to America, though, we didn't know what the right thing was. Here we lived with no map. We became invisible, the people who swam in between other people's lives, bussing dishes, delivering groceries. What was wrong?We didn't know. The most important thing, Abba said, was not to stick out. Don't let them see you. But I think it hurt him, to hide so much.”