It broke my heart into more pieces than my heart was made of, why can't people say what they mean at the time? (p. 279) - Jonathan Safran Foer

She spent the afternoon staring at their front door. "Waiting for someone?" Yankel asked. "What color is this?" He stood very close to the door, letting the end of his nose touch the peephole. He licked the wood and joked, "It certainly tastes like red." "Yes, it is red, isn't it?" "Seems so." She buried her head in her hands. "But couldn’t it be just a bit more red?" (pp. 79-80)

Feathers filled the small room. Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly if there wasn't someone, somewhere, laughing?

While it is always possible to wake a person who's sleeping, no amount of noise will wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.