Book: I was broadcasting from the tomb

Chemistry is such a solitary occupation that the greatest moments ever no audience.

I guess I should have said something gentle, soothing. But I didn't. I did so, as would any sensible girl in my circumstances: ran off.

Why, I thought, <...> the easiest way to lie where the case involved feelings?

The word "actually" like their relatives "frankly speaking", should themselves be for people familiar with that now followed by an outright lie, but somehow it is not.

The unwritten law of the universe States that what you seek is always in the last place you look. It applies to everything in life from lost socks to put in there not poisons, and of course, it worked in this case.

Pack your problems in an old bag and smile, smile, smile.

Each is locked in its past, unwilling to let a single drop of his grief even to each other.
Maybe in the end, grief is a private thing? A closed vessel? Something like a bucket of water, which can be worn only on the shoulders of one man?