"The smell hits her first: burnt rubber and gasoline. Then the pain comes. The roar of blood in her ears, the gurgled strangle of breath."
"Maybe some would say my dreams are too small. Perhaps they would dream of railroads that go over the sea, great, wonderful things. Maybe others want riches and jewels, a chance to travel the globe. For me, this is enough: A corner of paradise in this wretched world that I am able to call my own."
"The fair's flags soared. Its flowers bloomed. It took hold of the imaginations and got under the skin of all who witnesses its energy and promise, its sights and sounds and smells. It's scientific advancements astounded. Its global unity promised hope. Its vision inspired those who visited to do something bigger, to be someone better."
"Beneath the outward signs of deterioration, the same spirit dwells and looks on with dismay at the devastation the years have wrought. Inside, there is still an urge to dance under the stars, to walk swiftly across the fields, to lie on the shore under a blazing sun... today's choices become tomorrow's memories in a heartbeat -- do make them count."
"I untie the dock cleats and shove the boat into the water as gray as the sky. Sometime in the past few hours, gunmetal clouds have rolled over mountaintops, shooting down icy gusts that froth the surface of Lake Crosby into a million white peaks. My stomach churns, and not from the water's chop."
"There are currents in this place that somehow find their way inside, despite closed doors and shut windows. They eddy and caper through the air, they kiss the back of your neck, they a prickle down your spine, soft as the touch of fingertips."
"We crossed the bridge to enter Fripp Island, a luscious, jungled thumbprint of land that contains every shade of green you could imagine, from almost-yellow to almost-black..."