Cecilia’s party had never been cleaned up. The paper tablecloth, spotted with mice droppings… A brownish scum of punch… sprinkled with flies… A profu… - The Virgin Suicides

The girls were right in choosing to love Trip, because he was the only boy who could keep his mouth shut.

It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.

A series of dissolves, their house, street, city, country, and finally planet, which not only dwarfs but obliterates them.