From "Charles Fairbanks the IV defers from college"

I was worried about being replaced by this eclectic character. In between my rigorous self-defense sessions and viticulture courses, I allowed my mind to linger upon the family dinners I’d shared at the Patterson table with a depth of affection I did not think myself capable of possessing. I thought about Cheston and the frayed paper cigar box where he kept his wooden checkers; dear Susan with her perennial attachment to animal shaped terracotta planters and reality T.V; and Eileen, Eileen with her off-brand dandruff, her everpresent optimism, her contagious grin. Eileen had a real family; a cluster of homo sapiens who cared about her general welfare and achievments, people who had at least a general sense of her whereabouts once school let out.

From "Notes from Mexico"

On my second evening, I learn about the President. The French President, Sarkozy. His arrival is pending. There is much talk of whether or not he’ll be coming with his wife, Carla. There is much talk of whether or not their marriage is a hoax. “She’s a common prostitute,” a woman I don’t know says.

My husband’s father was married to Mirabelle for seven weeks before they divorced, although they’d been dating for seven years before that. Marriage, like having children, is something that older people have started to roll their eyes at. Do you have children, they ask? I answer in the negative. They roll their eyes. Say, “Don’t.”

From "Airs Above the Ground"

Away in a manger no crib for a bed, the little lord Jesus lay down his sweet head. At what age did a head cease being sweet? Or did it depend on size? Belltello had had the kindest face in the world, but his head was too big to be sweet. He’d had an enormous gray head, soft and alert and smelling of hay. You could lose your heart staring into his big eyes.

From "Airs Above the Ground"

She'd been there that evening to photograph the freestyle performance, but had been so transfixed by the connection between the horse and rider that she'd forgotten to take photographs. She'd paid dearly for this--after their record-breaking performance, Belltello and Peter were on the cover of every Dressage magazine in publication that year. They'd even made The Times.

From "Airs Above the Ground"

And the music! The awful Danish neo-pop that they laughed about the next morning; giddy as children from the unexpected victory and their encounter at the closing party that ended up with them in bed. It made her smile to remember how he slid across the carpet of her hotel room in his underwear, singing the lyrics to the song he’d used for his performance the night before, flailing his arms above his head and collapsing back into bed with her, desperate for breakfast.

From "Airs Above the Ground"

The ceremony was charming. The little girls looked proud. Lydia liked how the candles cast licks of color across their open mouths. She felt supportive of these children, especially the ones whose alto voices drifted frightfully off course.

From "Airs Above the Ground"

The little girls began the song in English and sang the chorus in French. Lydia couldn’t help but think that it would have been more appropriate to finish the song in German, what with the “O Tannenbaum” of it all, but it felt wrong to harbor a negative thought about the girl’s performance with Judith beaming at her side.