Just a few of my favorite lines (the book is filled with them!):
It's a thing about fog. Doesn't matter when it comes, it smells like April. Birdie was born April twenty-second. Every time it fogs like this, I tell her, Happy birthday, love.
At once I took a fierce chill. A sob rippled up my throat and I couldn't do a thing about it. It sure is one thing to say you're at war with this whole world and stick your chest out believing it, but when the world shows up with its crushing numbers and its predatory knowledge, it is another thing completely. I shut my eyes and rocked.
But here, let me finish quickly. Swede, who would know, says drift is the bane of epilogues...