That Woman is in love with her own grief.

Violence should not always beget more violence.

You forget all of it anyway. . . You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. . . You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else.

And when she dreams, she dreams of a girl who was lost at sea but one day found the shore.

It wasn't even 8:00 yet. Pretty early for such deep thoughts.

In life, Jane reflected, the most interesting things tend to happen when you're on your way to do something else.

Liz looks at the tissue box, which is decorated with drawings of snowmen engaged in various holiday activities. One of the snowmen is happily placing a smiling rack of gingerbread men in an oven. Baking gingerbread men, or any cooking for that matter, is probably close to suicide for a snowman, Liz thinks. Why would a snowman voluntarily engage in an activity that would in all likelihood melt him? Can snowmen even eat? Liz glares at the box.