“Frost grows on the window glass, forming whorl patterns of lovely translucent geometry.Breathe on the glass, and you give frost more ammunition.Now it can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor.In a few blinks you can almost see the winter fairies moving in . . .But first, you hear the crackle of their wings.”

“All that was a dream, you couldn't hold on, you couldn't depend on frosted glass and Debussy.”

“When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost work, but the solidest things we can know.”

“Me, I always wanted frost power.”“Frost power?”“Yeah.” Seth gestured dramatically toward my coffee table. “If we’re talking superhero abilities. If I had frost power, I could wave my hand, and suddenly that whole thing would be covered in ice.”“Not frost?”“Same difference.”“How would frost and/or ice power help you fight crime?”“Well, I don’t know that it would. But it’d be cool.”

“There are all sorts of losses people suffer - from the small to the large. You can lose your keys, your glasses, your virginity. You can lose your head, you can lose your heart, you can lose your mind. You can relinquish your home to move into assisted living, or have a child move overseas, or see a spouse vanish into dementia. Loss is more than just death, and grief is the gray shape-shifter of emotion.”

“Imagine a delicious glass of summer iced tea.Take a long cool sip. Listen to the ice crackle and clink.Is the glass part full or part empty?Take another sip.And now?”