From Mama we learned what sort of people we should be, and we loved her as a confidante; but Papa's image was… — Dorit Rabinyan

The silence was very intense, like the hush that used to trouble her mind when she was the first to wake up on Saturday mornings. (p97)

"If you could just for a moment come out of yourself and see what I see...you wouldn't stop looking at yourself. But unfortunately you need a mirror to do it, my poor beauty.” (p148)