It was the kind of Sunday to make one ache for Monday morning. - Joan Didion

I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be...

There was a level on which I believed that what had happened remained reversible

Similarly, perhaps it never did snow that August in Vermont; perhaps there never were flurries in the night wind, and maybe no one else felt the ground hardening and summer already dead even as we pretended to bask in it, but that was how it felt to me, and it might as well have snowed, could have snowed, did snow.