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“There's something catching about ambition."

“She was beginning to have that feeling that comes after midnight, of one's thoughts opening out, flowering, groping out loud for some new discovery, some new truth that is really as old as all the hundreds of years girls have been confiding to one another in the relaxing intimacy of the night.”

"There's a point, around age twenty," Bedap said, "when you have to choose whether to be like everybody else the rest of your life, or to make a virtue of your peculiarities."

“Garab saw a much larger universe than most people were capable of seeing, and it made them blink. The light-eyed boy watched her steadily. In his facel she saw her joy. What she offered, what she had offered for a whole lifetime, what no one had ever shared with her, he took, he shared. He was her brother, across the gulf of fifty years, and her redemption.”

“It is of the nature of idea to be communicated: written, spoken, done. The idea is like grass. It craves light, likes crowds, thrives on crossbreeding, grows better for being stepped on.”

“To be whole is to be part; true voyage is return.”

“I thought of how the world can be anything and how sad it is that it's this.”

“All over now. He is either in joy or nothingness.
(So why grieve?
The worst of it, for him, is over.)
Because I loved him so and am in the habit of loving him and that love! must take the form of fussing and worry and doing.”

“Only then (nearly out the door, so to speak) did I realize how unspeakably beautiful all of this was, how precisely engineered for our pleasure, and saw that I was on the brink of squandering a wondrous gift, the gift of being allowed, every day, to wander this vast sensual paradise, this grand marketplace lovingly stocked with every sublime thing”

“His sad eyes looked into mine. What he lamented was my coming of age in a lessened world.”

“Every day was a series of tests, accompanied by a litany of directives: be a good person, a good worker, a good husband. Don't slouch, don't shirk, don't stray from the intention. Was he capable? Melt him down in a crucible and pour him into the mold. Let him cool and harden, melt him down, try again. Mark these words, Felix Salt will take the form he's meant to take.”

“She couldn't imagine getting through something like that as a parent and said as much, but Mrs. Dodson said time helped. Time was like a rock bed with a lot of layers, she said, then took a moment to find the word she wanted: strata. Even the most unbearable things became fossils, after a while.”