“That's the way love sounds, my mother told me. You think it should feel like honey, but instead it cuts like a knife.”

“One day I asked my mother, "Mom, where's my dreaming place?" And she took me up in the hills and showed me a waterfall. "That's your dreaming place," she told me. "When you die you'll go back in there. And you'll be there forever. You'll be in that waterfall, watching the seasons come and go like your spiritual ancestors. In that spot, you will be part of the land." That is why we teach you not to harm or even mark the land. That would be like getting a knife and cutting yourself.”

“You make me feel like honey and trombones. You make me feel like honey and trombones.”

“The wind cut like a knife up here, and shrilled in the night like a mother mourning her slain children.”

“Someone could have told me," he finally said, feeling and sounding both miserable and pathetic. "Oh, honey, I knew you were dumb, but this was beyond my expectations.”

“I didn't like anybody in that school. I think they knew that. I think that's why they disliked me. I didn't like the way they walked or looked or talked, but I didn't like my mother or father either. I still had the feeling of being surrounded by white empty space. There was always a slight nausea in my stomach.”