She glared at him, feeling the old frustration. Sometimes in his presence she felt the deepest connection to him, and other times she felt completely alone-as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagination.

Please don't judge me too much until you are older and know more things. (Spoken from mother to daughter)

It was like a dream you might have after death in which lost people came back to life, your friends loved you again no matter what you had done, and your failures were unaccountably forgiven.

When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word.

You thought you had the choice to stay still or move forward, but your didn't. As long as your heart kept pumping an your blood kept blowing and your lungs kept filling, you didn't. The pang she felt for Tibby carried something like envy. You couldn't stand still for anything short of death, and God knew she had tried.

The phone was her worst enemy and her best friend but she never knew which until she answered it.

I love the idea of fictional worlds kind of all cohering in some way.