That there were other worlds, invisible, unknown, beyond imagination even, was a revelation to him.

The thing is, I used to like that: feeling special because I knew something no one else did. It's a kind of power, isn't it, knowing a secret? But lately I don't like it so much, knowing this. It's not really mine to know, is it?

They turned a distracted gaze on the world, wide-eyed, somehow, and questioning.

Though Lexington is not a small town, it sometimes feels like one, with circles of acquaintance overlapping once, then again; the person you meet by chance at the library or the pool may turn out to be the best friend of your down-the-street neighbor. Maybe thats why people are so friendly here, so willing to be unhurried.

She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.

He'd kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.

Away from the bright motion of the party, she carried her sadness like a dark stone clenched in her palm.