“Can you speak to the dead…like your sister?"Ms. Dupré's body seems to loosen, and her voice gets soft as a feather against your skin. "No, child. But you can say goodbye to someone even after he's gone. You just have to find a way that's right for you.”

“Emma must feel Jake stiffen because she pulls back. He can't see her eyes in the dark and wonders if she is going to say something. Instead she kisses him on the mouth. Then her hand slides slowly down his chest and stomach. She doesn't slip it inside his jeans. She just presses it against his erection.Jake inhales sharply, and he's pretty sure he hears Duncan mutter, "Get a room.”

“Emma has noticed that about Lily. Even hearing Duncan's name makes her giddy. Her plain clothes and slouched shoulders seem to disappear, and she smiles.”

“Emma laughed, even though she wanted to cry and scream and run away all at the same time. Jake put his arms around her, and she felt calmer. He has a mellowness that rubs off on people, Emma has noticed. But it's not just being mellow. There is something kind about him. He knows when people need him, she thinks. He knows that she needs him.”

“The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have.”

“Desert this mad and unfounded obsession with the so-called truth. In pursuit of truth, you are guaranteed a long and perilous run through a semantic maze that derives meaning only from your undivided attention.”

“THE VOICE YOU HEAR WHEN YOU READ SILENTLY is not silent, it is a speaking-out-loud voice in your head; it is *spoken*,a voice is *saying* itas you read. It's the writer's words,of course, in a literary sensehis or her "voice" but the soundof that voice is the sound of *your* voice.Not the sound your friends knowor the sound of a tape played backbut your voicecaught in the dark cathedralof your skull, your voice heardby an internal ear informed by internal abstractsand what you know by feeling,having felt. It is your voicesaying, for example, the word "barn"that the writer wrotebut the "barn" you sayis a barn you know or knew. The voicein your head, speaking as you read,never says anything neutrally- some peoplehated the barn they knew,some people love the barn they knowso you hear the word loadedand a sensory constellationis lit: horse-gnawed stalls,hayloft, black heat tape wrappinga water pipe, a slipperyspilled *chirr* of oats from a split sack,the bony, filthy haunches of cows...And "barn" is only a noun- no verbor subject has entered into the sentence yet!The voice you hear when you read to yourselfis the clearest voice: you speak itspeaking to you. ~~-Thomas Lux”