“He was the closest thing she had to a pony.”
“His books were the closest thing he had to furniture and he lived in them the way other men live in easy chairs.”
“There were a few things she did know for sure, though. There was no way the pony was going back in the gate. Not when the pony was thirty-four and really liked pulling the milk cart.”
“Blay was the closest thing to an angel Qhuinn had ever come near.”
“He was the closest thing I'd ever had to something, or someone, that mattered. But in the end, close didn't count. You were either in, or you weren't.”
“There was so much life wrapped up in that pony's hide that it was mighty hard for him to settle down and behave...he sometimes had to bust out and do things that wasn't at all proper...”