Their friendship was only one aspect of their lives but it seemed to give meaning to all the others.

She liked the life she had. She loved habits. She craved a day with nothing in it, a long, quiet stretch of hours in the studio.

I don't have the life of a famous person. But I do feel like I've been able to connect with a lot of people.

She existed in her friends; there she was. All the parts of herself she'd forgotten. She knew herself best when she was with them.

Forget Jack, I'm in love with the cold, dirt floor.

As the three of them walked home from the trees, nobody needed to say it, but Ama knew. They had questioned their friendship. They had searched and wondered, looking for a sign. And all along they'd had their trees. You couldn't wear them. You couldn't pass them around. They offered no fashion advantage. But they had roots. They lived.

There was one thing Bridget like about guys. They took insults well.