He realized without being aware of it that he had had the possibility to know her, before – had he known her? – but now that had changed. The possibility was gone. Now no one...

She could strive for perfection only in certain, few things; beyond that, it was important only to be tidy.

It was as if she had grown, changed, overnight; her hair was different, her eyes; the shade and texture of her flesh, her limbs; and, most disconcerting and delightful of all, she was beginning to...

They were blessed, said Jane; they were going to give birth to themselves. It would be themselves they gave birth to, only better. That was why she and Della must work so hard to protect...

And that was the point of children, thought Caroline Meddey: to bind us to the earth and to the present, to distract us from death.

He had pulled out of that grief, eventually – out from under the suffocating weight of it. Suffering had formed him: made him silent and deliberate, thoughtful: deep.

Not only a few times, but every time he did not give in to his urge to go look for her, he resented the moment that came in its place. Even if the moment was...

It was only too bad that to gossip and support mean ideas was easier and more enjoyable, really, than to keep quiet and know in silence that the true story can never be told, articulated...