The Revolutionary Hill Estates had not been designed to accommodate a tragedy. Even at night, as if on purpose, the development held no looming shadows and no gaunt silhouettes. It was invincibly cheerful, a toyland of white and pastel houses whose bright, uncurtained windows winked blandly through a dappling of green and yellow leaves … A man running down these streets in desperate grief was indecently out of place.

She was calm and quiet now with knowing what she had always known, what neither her parents nor Aunt Claire nor Frank nor anyone else had ever had to teach her: that if you wanted something to do something absolutely honest, something true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone.

There's never been anything funny about a woman dying for love.

Anybody's marriage might benefit from an occasional embargo on talk.

If you haven't written a novel by the time you're forty you never will!

Every man has a right to keep his own sentiments if he pleases.

Being alone has nothing to do with how many people are around.