“Finally, in October 1945, a man with swampy eyes, feathers of hair, and a clean-shaven face walked into the shop. He approached the counter. "Is there someone here by the name of Leisel Meminger?""Yes, she's in the back," said Alex. He was hopeful, but he wanted to be sure. "May I ask who is calling on her?"Leisel came out.They hugged and cried and fell to the floor.”

“She won't win," Eric said. He sounded confident, passionate--everything I might have hoped would be reassuring."You're sure?" I asked."Yes, my lover. I'm sure.""But you're not here," I observed, and I hung up very gently. He didn't call back.”

“Sometimes I feel like I've been waiting for someone to tell me when I can be normal again,' she said. 'I keep thinking I'll get a letter. Or a call. When does it happen?'Pete looked like he wanted to walk toward her, but then he fell back against the car. The staring contest between them for almost a minute, and finally Pete exhaled loudly.It's okay,' he said.”

“I'm here," he said into her ear, as the tears came faster. "Emma, I'm here with you now. Listen to me: I will always be here."Always, she thought. He said "always," but he had forgotten to say finally. Finally you are here. Thank God, finally at last.”

“They resumed walking. Alex felt an ache in his eyes and throat. "I don't know what happened to me," he said, shaking his head. "I honestly don't."Bennie glanced at him, a middle-aged man with chaotic silver hair and thoughtful eyes. "You grew up, Alex," he said, "just like the rest of us.”

“Are the computers going to fail?” one of the artists asked him, licking ketchup off her thumb. She asked it like she was hoping he’d say yes. Lincoln couldn't remember her name, but she had all-over-the-place hair and big brown eyes. He didn't like thinking about her with an X-Acto knife.”