“He was so different and special and brave that it didn't matter that they would never be his girlfriend because he was too beautiful and they were too ordinary. Their love for him made them love each other more.”

“It’s a wonderful body,” he’d whispered the next morning while she was still asleep. Not even the blue silk Loretta Caponi pajamas he’d brought back for her from Florence could disguise its lumpiness. But it was so gorgeously strong. She almost never got sick. She could outswim riptides and ski double diamonds. And even when a wave scraped her into the sand or a patch of ice threw her to the ground, she rarely bruised. He loved that body for taking care of her, for sheltering the one thing he couldn’t live without.”

“[I] get [yo]ur point about how people can[']t save each other for real.[B]ut I still think we need stories that tell us we can.[J]ust so we won[']t stop trying.”

“I can lose myself in symbolism as deeply as the next lit-geek...”

“To be a devout reader was to be an acolyte of solace.”

“To look down into crowds is to see bald spots and slipped bra straps before faces and gowns. It is the viewpoint of spiders and kings, of cheap sports seats and God.”

“I've had nannies and au pairs. I have tutors and a trainer and a shrink. I know paid-nice. It comes with gritted teeth.”