“Boomer had asked her once, in a telephone call from Virginia, “Why does this stuff, these hand-painted hallucinations that don’t do nothin’ but confuse the puddin’ out of a perfectly reasonable wall, why does it mean so much to you?” It was a poor connection, but he could have sworn he heard her say, “In the haunted house of life, art is the only stair that doesn’t creak.”

“In the haunted house of life, art is the only stair that doesn't creak.”

“God, I hate you,” she says. “So much. Why do boys think that it will be better to lie and tell a girl how much they loved her and how they only dumped her for her own good? That they only tried to rearrange her brain for her own good? Does it make you feel better, Cassel? Does it? Because from my perspective, it really sucks.”

“The — the prophecy . . . the prediction . . . Trelawney . . .”“Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?”“Everything — everything I heard! That is why — it is for that reason — he thinks it means Lily Evans!”“The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July —”“You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down — kill them all —” “If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?”“I have — I have asked him —”“You disgust me.”

“Once more Jane sat staring at the telephone. This time she was filled with a confidence that was new to her. Stan Crandall. Stanley Crandall. He liked her! He had seen her once, and even though had been rumpled and grass-stained and having a terrible time with Sandra, he liked her well enough to go to the trouble of finding out her name and calling to ask her to go to the movies. Jane smiled at the telephone and gave a sigh of happiness”

“Faris turned on him. "Why choose to wear black today, of all days? I know why I'm in black. Why are you? Mourning?He looked startled. "One does not wear mourning for a servant."You still don't understand, do you? He was not my servant."He regarded her anger, aghast. "What then? What else could he be?Her empty hands shook as she held them out to him. Her voice shook as she replied, "Glove to my hand." Slowly she closed her fists. "Everything.”