“Sick people should look sick, like in fairy tales or on television. They shouldn 't be wearing sexy dresses and shaving their legs. How was I supposed to know she was about to disappear?”

“Joan Finch is tall and sickly thin. She is wearing a tight black dress that accentuates her bony legs, the crookedness of her body. She looks like a burnt matchstick.”

“The truth hurts, sometimes, I suppose. But that doesn`t mean it shouldn`t be known.”

“Fuck, she was so sick of herself-herself and her fucking emotional retardation. How did people do this shit all the time, this wanting people, caring about them? How did they stand it, how did they ever get anything done? She was sick of being lost.”

“This isn't the way the fairy-tale is supposed to end. Everyone knows that.”

“It was inconsiderate, she thought, how blandly people mentioned the future in the sick rooms. Phrases like next summer were always popping out; people made such assumptions about their own continuity.”