All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.

She learned the intricacy of loneliness: the horror of color, the roar of soundlessness and the menace of familiar objects lying still.

you got two feet, Sethe, not four." he said, and right then a forest sprang up between them; tactless and quiet.

The screams of a hurt woman were indistinguishable from everyday traffic.

He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. ‘You your best thing, Sethe. You are.’ His holding fingers are holding hers. ‘Me? Me?

...the change was adjustment without improvement.

No gasp at a miracle that is truly miraculous because the magic lies in the fact that you knew it was there for you all along.