“I don't mind him not talking so much, because you can hear his voice in your heart; the same way you can hear a song in your head even if there isn't a radio playing; the same way you can hear those blackbirds flying when they're not in the sky”

“No one answered. You could hear the light buzzing over us. I love that sound. It means school isn't working, that the teachers are losing the battle.”

“So I think I’m in love with Silent Starla, who isn’t all that silent after all. In group she hardly ever talks, and in the cafeteria she just sort of stares off in this dreamy way. She’s from Oak Park, Illinois, and when she left my room, she said, “We can go together, but I won’t fuck you without a condom. I like your eyes.”

“For some reason, I kept trying to see how much pubic hair he had. It was all matted and kind of orange, like something you use to scrub soap scum. When he caught me looking, he told me that the landlord on the show – Mr. Furley or whatever his name was – didn’t try hard enough. “That guy doesn’t try hard enough, Steve,” he said. I felt weirdly ashamed when he said that. So much so that I went into his room and urinated on his bed.”

“We only have so much time, Mary,” I remember saying. “Time will kill you – it really will.”

“Back to his various modes of escape and survival. Because you have to escape to survive, as you must survive to escape.”

“And then again, maybe it was some weird noise in my brother’s head, some little digital murmur he never told anyone about. I’ve heard about that – how you wake up one day and there’s like this permanent dial tone droning somewhere behind the meat in your head, a little Dustbuster trapped where the brain saves you from going crazy. After a while you wind up ending it all just to make things quiet again.”