“She ever marry?""No."The no sounds like "not in a million years." Like Aunt Alice couldn't marry, like she has one arm and horns sticking out of her head and she talks in tongues. Or maybe has several tongues to talk with.”

“Next was Alice. I gave her a book by Anne Rice because she is always talking about her. And she looked at me like she couldn't believe I knew she loved Anne Rice. I guess she didn't know how much she talked or how much I listen.”

“As he talked, I watched Emma and wondered what is to become of her. She is of an age to be married but she spends her time with people who are so much older than she, that she is never likely to meet a husband. And if she does, I do not know if she will wish to marry. She is too comfortable where she is. Her father is easy to please and she can do as she likes with the household. A husband will have his own views, and Emma is not likely to take to that way of living.”

“But this time of the year she was in her vaults, underground, and here she resided alone, spending most of her life in darkness, like a tongue”

“She was married, true; but if one's husband was always sailing round Cape Horn, was it marriage? If one liked him, was it marriage? If one liked other people, was it marriage? And finally, if one still wished, more than anything in the whole world, to write poetry, was it marriage? She had her doubts.”

“Yes, but I don't always remember that I talk now.' Sara hugged me for the second time in two minutes. 'Your voice is beautiful. You sound like you're singing,' I could see her little guy growing up. His terrible two's drive her crazy. She has a wedding ring on her finger. She has several bad hair phases.”