You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.

All morons hate it when you call them a moron.

Her joke of a name aside, her general unprettiness aside, she was, in terms of permanently memorable, immoderately perceptive, small-area faces, a stunning and final girl.

... even the most sublimely accomplished non-stop talker can't consistently please.

I was surrounded by jerks. I'm not kidding.

She was wearing a canary-yellow two-piece bathing suit, one piece of which she would not actually be needing for another nine or ten years.

I was six when I saw that everything was God, and my hair stood up, and all, Teddy said. It was on a Sunday, I remember. My sister was a tiny child then, and she was drinking her milk, and all of a sudden I saw that she was God and the milk was God. I mean, all she was doing was pouring God into God, if you know what I mean.