“How many times has that happened? I find myself wondering. How many times have I sat, waiting, while he catches up with somebody else, somebody more important?”

“I had to wonder - how many time can you hurt somebody before they stop caring?”

“Sorry, I said to myself, wondering how many times in my marriage I'd said that, how many times I'd meant it, how many times Claire had actually believed it, and, most important, how many times the utterance had any impact whatsoever on our dispute. What a lovely chart one could draw of this word Sorry.”

“I left him in his wheelchair, staring sadly into the fireplace. I wondered how many times he’d sat here, waiting for heroes that never came back.”

“How many times before I finally convince myself, how many private, erasable deaths will I need to die, how many self-murders is it going to take, how many times will I have to destroy myself before I learn, before I understand?”

“Sometimes I wondered how long I would have to wait for the world to catch up to me. The rest of the time I was sure it never would.”