"Adorable useless Jack.”
"What, I'm working.”
"It's amazing, it's almost supernatural, really, the way people get an idea, a tiny human hankering for something, and it becomes a way of life, the obsession of the ages. To me this is amazing. A person like me. Nurtured on realities, the limitations of things.”
"I walked in the wrong tower.”
"Jack wants to live in Maine.”
"I find that, you know, why not?”
"It's the driving force of his life, suddenly, out of nowhere, this thing, Maine, this word, which is all it is, since he's never been there.”
"But it's a good word," she said.
"Maine.”
"Maine," she said. "It's simple maybe, Ethan, but it has a strength to it. You feel it's the sort of core, the moral core.”
"This from a person who uses words, so it must mean something.”
"I use words, absolutely.”
"So maybe Jack has something.”
"Ethan, Jack always has something. Whatever it is, Jack has the inner meanings of it, the pure parts. We both know this about Jack.”
"What do I do, commute?”
"I'd like to be there now," she said. "This city. Time of year.”
"July, August.”
"Scream city.”
"You think he's got something then.”
"I use words.”
"You think he's picked a good one.”
"Jack has. Jack always has.”
In the same way that she thought of Ethan as semi-Edwardian, she considered his mouth, apart from the rest of him, as German. He had assertive lips, something of a natural sneer, and there were times when he nearly drooled while laughing, bits of fizz appearing at the corners of his mouth. These were things Pammy associated with scenes of the German high command in World War II movies.