“Her life was perfect. But as was often the case, the rest of us were still adjusting.”

“Spiders evidently as surprised by the weather as the rest of us: their webs were still everywhere - little silken laundry lines with perfect snowflakes hung out in rows to dry.”

“You were looking for me? Victoria wondered if she would be red for the rest of her life. Yes. Isn't that something. Perfect ice queen Victoria looking for skunkish old me.”

“Nothing goes perfectly for us. But... being incomplete is what pushes us onward to the next something... If we were even perfectly satisfied, what meaning would the rest of our lives hold, right?”

“How often do we tell our own life story? How often do we adjust, embellish, make sly cuts? And the longer life goes on, the fewer are those around to challenge our account, to remind us that our life is not our life, merely the story we have told about our life. Told to others, but—mainly—to ourselves.”

“Insanity -- a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world.”