“My bottom is my deliquent daughter. I lavish praise upon her cheeks when she's well behaved and when she gets out of control, I pretend she isn't mine.”

“My mouth hung slightly open, i was getting ready to sat something important. what i wanted to say was: I's so, so sorry. but instead I said, "i love you." Only then, when i said it out loud, did i know that it was true.Carly threaded her fingers through mine and i squeezed her hand. She said it back to me, and i was relieved in a way that i wasn't expecting. i didn't know that i needed her to say it until she did. i was so grateful; i leaned down and kissed her fearlessly, which was unlike me. When she kissed me back, i brought my hand up and cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her hair with clumsy fingers. i tried to back off, to apologize for hurting her, but she kept me close, kissing me softly at first, then hard and fast until the lines between us blurred.”

“She was sound asleep when he came to curl up next to her. She grunted."Don't worry. I'm too drunk, I won't do anything," he murmered.As she had her back to him, he placed his nose on her neck and slid his arm underneath her to be as close to her as possible. Short strands of her hair tickled his nostrils."Camille?"Was she asleep? Was she pretending? No answer either way."I like being with you."A little smile.Was she dreaming? Was she asleep? Who knows...”

“How about a rain check?' She smiles, but I know it's not real because it doesn't crinkle her eyes. 'Sure. Some other time.'I nod and grab my car keys. Before I flip the light on in the grage, she's behind me, tugging on my backpack.'You want to go to school? Fine. But you're not driving. Give me the key.''I'm okay, Mom, really. I'll see you tonight.' I plant a quick kiss on her cheek and turn to the door again. 'That's nice. Give it to me.' She holds out her hand.I clench the key in my fist. 'You practically shoved that car down my throat Monday, and now youre taking the key. What did I do?''What did you do? Well, for starters, you used your face to stop a cafeteria door from swinging open.”

“It turned out that when my younger self thought of taking wing, she wanted only to let her spirit soar. Books are the plane, the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.”

“she had come to him when he was no longer there…because he had not found the young man with the scarred cheek he could not come to her through the glass.”

“When we were arguing on my twenty-fourth birthday, she left the kitchen, came back with a pistol, and fired it at me five times from right across the table. But she missed. It wasn't my life she was after. It was more. She wanted to eat my heart and be lost in the desert with what she'd done, she wanted to fall on her knees and give birth from it, she wanted to hurt me as only a child can be hurt by its mother.”