it is amazin, she thinks, how simple appearances can be created - a rush, a smile, a new coat of paint, a slow, calm voice, a hug, a new dress - a resolve to keep out questions and cling to secrets

Faith and science, I have learned, are two sides of the same coin, separated by an expanse so small, but wide enough that one side can't see the other. They don't know they are connected.

There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.

I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.

Father says it will come in time. “Time heals,” he says. I don’t tell him that I don’t know what time is.

It's other people who make us wise, and I haven't known nearly enough.

When your life has had few events to occupy it, it's amazing how a simple encounter can seem like an entire three-act play.