Henry shook his head, 'I was drunk,' he said, trying to sound both ashamed and firm in this belief. He remembered the rosebush incident very clearly, of course, but he knew that sneaking into the bedroom window of his fiancee's little sister wasn't something he wanted to explain to his father. Sometimes, Henry reflected, being taken for a perpetual drunk was sort of convenient.

He was just like summer, and she loved summer. If she had any wish, it would be to live a lifetime of summers.

She had had no idea what it would do to her seeing him in a suit.

Things only looked wrong when there was someone to see you.

Heart-stopping envy is the sincerest form of flattery.

It is a truth universally acknowledge that there will always be a gentleman to dance with, except at just the moment when you require one most.

So this is how life was, she thought with a faint smile: It wore you down until you emerged at its wildest, most unexpected ends.