A Prayer for Owen Meany. I get the shivers every time I read it.
Ulysses, of course:
…I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the
Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the
Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with
my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain
flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could
feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes
I will Yes.
I also love the end of Moby Dick:
Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.
I like the little epilogues at the end of all of Sue Grafton’s books. I like to know what happened after the bad guy was caught. I just like epilogues.
The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard. Most people hate Hazzard for some time after reading the end, but it is powerful and beautifully done.
A River Runs Through It, by Norman Maclean, [spoiler]"Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn’t…
I am haunted by waters."[/spoiler]