This one left me so uninspired I don't have favorite quotes to share. Now that's an underwhelming book.
As a disclaimer, I didn't know which way Tyler would take the ending until I accidentally spoiled it for myself. I glanced at a review that gave it away, so it was just a matter of getting through to the end without the suspense of not knowing. Somehow I think knowing made little difference in my enjoyment.
Finishing this book, I still maintain she writes some of the most thin prose I've forced myself to read. Deep themes! A true slice of humanity! Such is her reputation. Everyday life, and the same book over and over and over. That's the reality.
So, why the compulsion to keep trying to read her? Wanting to find there's more there, I guess. Not understanding why I seem to have the opposite reaction everyone else does, shamefully wanting to let peer pressure force me to keep at it. When there's so much out there that's so much better this is becoming harder and harder to justify.