The History of Love: A Novel

It struck him that he’d never been so happy, but was wise enough to understand that his happiness consisted largely of hope. Their meeting in the ruin had been intimate and strange, and had sustained his spirit for days; but quickly they’d reverted to their easy pretence of being boys with a mystery on their hands. So they spoke only of where Maria

When their marriage was still new, she never felt the need to lock it, and sometimes he would sit on the bathroom floor as she bathed and the two of them would talk about all the minutes and hours they’d spent apart. But after nearly twenty years together, it is as if their quota of words is almost gone and they have to ration them out, sparingly,

To see her brighten when I came in, find her leaning into me as we discussed some household matter, improved my lot in ways I cannot adequately explain. I had been happy, happy enough, but now I often found myself uttering a spontaneous prayer that went, simply: She is here, still here.

“I said, ‘If the birds had such kinship that when one of them died, so did the other one, then what did the second firebird lose? Is there a third thing in this world, at least as powerful as Life and Death?’ ” Smithy sighed and rolled his eyes. “I know where this one’s going.” Mara paid no attention to him. She waved at him to hush. “What was it?”