“Is she okay? I mean, no offense, she sounds more mental than I do.”

“She's my best friend, and I know she means well, but as she talks I'm mentally calculating all the ways I could silence her. I'm bigger than her... I wonder if I could use my straw for some sort of MacGyver inspired weapon.”

“I listen to the rain and the thunder, and I think I hear Jenna's voice in them, sounding out a warning. She's been gone for months now. But sometimes it feels like she's more alive than ever. She's one of the indecipherable things that make sounds in the wind, and she's in every kind of dream - the good and the awful.”

“What does she do?""She's a producer." Of course, in Los Angeles this doesn't mean much more than "she's a member of the human race.”

“She didn’t look back. I remember that more than anything else. She didn’t look back. I wanted to mean more to her than that. I wanted her to turn, because I was sure she’d change her mind. And perhaps she would have, and that’s why she didn’t.From the story 'Rain Dancing”

“You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.”“I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.”“Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.”She looked at him.“When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes.”