“This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, "Come straight home after school." Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.”

“When I'm at school in the city, I don't feel particularly worldly or wise. It's only when I come back home that I remember exactly why I left.”

“I hear a guttural sound followed by a weak sigh and look back at the bodies. "I'm going to kill the kid," Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bloody laugh. I don't think he even has the parts left to laugh with. "Get in line.”

“When we faced Mom, we saw she was addressing Max. "We get to know each other I'll get to hug you." "Mom!" I snapped and Mom turned to me. "I get to do it when he doesn't have a shirt on too. I'm calling it now," Mom declared.”

“What would I like to get away from? Complexity. Anxiety. A feeling I've had my whole life that at any given time there's something I'm forgetting, some detail or chore, something that I'm supposed to be doing or should have already done. That nagging sensation - I get up with it, I go through the day with it, I go to sleep with it. When I was a kid, I had a habit of coming home from school on Friday afternoons and immediately doing my homework. So I'd wake up on Saturday morning with this wonderful sensation, a clean, open feeling of relief and possibility and calm. There'd be nothing I had to do. Those Saturday mornings, they were a taste of real freedom that I've hardly ever experienced as an adult. I never wake up in Elmsford with the feeling that I've done my homework.”

“After finals and winter break...after I'm back to full strength, we'll go get Preston. Whether Mom and Abby and Joe and Townsend like it or not, we'll go get him. And then...' I trailed off. 'And then we'll finish this. Next semester, this thing ends.”