sibling laughter–he can hear it– not the laughter of school friends or neighbors or cousins. Something secret in that laughter, private, edged with meanness and devotion

Take you picture off the wall And carry it awayDye your hair the shades of fallDon't let time turn it to grayDon't think of me, I'll be all rightSeems I've always done okayJust give me one more kiss good nightFor the last time, turn away

There was a coldness in his unwavering ease, his constant and impersonal joy.

He sings so softly. Almost a whisper. Not like her father at all. Like the voices they give to the dolls, the men.

She feels in fact that Wade's death is the very end of her heart. It is strange to arrive here at the end after all this time, and also strange to realize she hasn't been here before.

Take your picture off the wall So I won't have to see your eyesAnd maybe soon I won't recallThe painful things that once were nice