You give her all your french fries, even when she won't give you back onion rings,' Sophie says. 'And when you say her name it sounds different.' How?' Sophie thinks. 'Like it's covered with blankets.

There was, really, nothing you could use as a blueprint for your life, except your past. There was no starting over. There was only picking up the pieces someone had left behind.

And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but the truth in masquerade.

The person may have a scar, but it also means they have a story

It's never the differences between people that suprise us. It's the things that, against all odds, we have in common.

You don't have to say I love you to say I love you," you said with a shrug. "All you have to do is say my name and I know." ..."Can't you hear it?" you said. "When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.

I think once you sign on to be a mother, that's the only shift they offer.