Lately he'd been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.

Real friends. The kind that don't purposely hurt your feelings or stop liking you for no reason.

I guess no one stays friends for more than thirty years without broken hearts along the way.

The falling apart of a man's life should make more noise. It should startle passesrby with its Sturm and Drang. It ought to sound like the Parthenon crashing down. Not this ordinary, everyday kind of quiet...He closed his eyes...And still it was quiet, this falling apart of his life, as silent as the last beat of an old man's heart. A quiet, echoing thud, and then...nothing.

It occurred to her suddenly, sharply, that she wanted to be in love... She wanted not to feel so damned alone in the world.

It was true; always had been. Friendships were like marriages in that way. Routines and patterns were poured early and hardened like cement.

Books + friendship = book club