“Seeing her step so easily from the pantry and emerge looking precisely as she did when she entered, only happier, taught Sula that sex was pleasant and frequent, but otherwise unremarkable.”

“Dying was OK because it was sleep and there wasn't no gray ball in death, was there? Was there? She would have to ask somebody about that, somebody she could confide in, and who knew a lot of things, like Sula, for Sula would know or if she didn't she would say something funny that would make it all right. Ooo no, not Sula. Here she was in the midst of it, hating it, scared of it, and again she thought of Sula as though they were still friends and talked things over. That was too much. To lose Jude and not have Sula to talk to about it because it was Sula that he had left her for.Now her thighs were really empty. And it was then that what those women said about never looking at another man made some sense to her, for the real point, the heart of what they said, was the word looked. Not to promise never to make love to another man, not to refuse to marry another man, but to promise and know that she could never afford to look again, to see and accept the way in which their heads cut the air or see moons or tree limbs framed by their necks and shoulders... never to look, for now she could not risk looking - and anyway, so what? For now her thighs were truly empty and dead too and it was Sula who had taken the life from them and Jude who smashed her heart and the both of them who left her with no thighs and no heart just her brain raveling away.”

“He understood now why she was so much calmer, so much happier when he held her hand while they walked. When he first did that, she had looked at their linked fingers quizzically, but didn't pull away, even though she had been as skittish as a stray cat. limit.”

“Livia stopped to hold her small tiara on with her bouquet hand, and she finally looked at him. As always, her blazing beauty ignited him as she approached.Me. She sees me.She was only a few steps from the bottom when she smiled at him. Blake mouthed the number back to her.“You’re here,” she whispered.“Always,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.”

“When she was one, Snoopy lost his nose. Her first words were ‘no nose’ as she held Snoopy up for us to see his injury – which was swiftly repaired with cotton and needle. Later, when she broke her wrist, he accompanied her to the operating theatre. She ended up with plaster of paris from palm to armpit, poor child. So did Snoopy – he emerged with his left paw plastered!”

“It was not often that she was alone like this and she did not like it. When she was alone she had to think and, these days, thoughts were not so pleasant.”