She wasn't as destructive as Bee. She had never been as dramatic. Rather, she'd slipped carefully, stealthily away from her ghosts.

Please believe him. Keep your heart open to him. He can make you happy. He has always loved you, and you once loved him with all your heart.

She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?

Ruins stood for what was lost, and yet there were beautiful-peaceful, historic, intellectual. Not tragic or regrettable. Lena tried to keep hers that way too, and she succeeded to some extent. Why not celebrate what you had rather than spend your time mourning its passing? There could be joy in things that ended.

No matter how far back you cut a willow tree, it will never really die.

Marnie hated to see her spend so much of herself on someone who didn't care.

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