“Sydney's the kind of port that leaves a mark on a sailor," the old man mused. "Really?" Haakon said, wondering what the man meant. "It did on me," he said, opening up his shirt to display his chest. It was covered with tattoos! At the top, SYDNEY was printed in elaborate red and blue letters. Beneath that was an enticing selection of names and dates. "Mary, 1838...Adella, 1840..." The old sailor began laughing. "Beatrice, 1843...Helen, 1846." And then finally, "Mother." There was no date after "Mother." "Mothers you love forever," he said. Everybody laughed then, including Haakon, though the thought brought some sadness to his heart. He did love his mother forever, and he missed her as well.”

“He wondered whether he really liked his mother. But she was his mother and this fact was recognized by everybody as meaning automatically that he loved her, and so he took for granted that whatever he felt for her was love. He did not know whether there was any reason why he should respect her judgment. She was his mother; this was supposed to take the place of reasons.”

“Finally, he slipped his arms around her too.Her eyes closed in relief.“I was thinking,” His voice rumbled against her ear. “That I’ve brought you so much trouble after everything you’ve done for me. Maybe it’s not too late to fix it. If I leave…”“No!” She pulled away and looked up into his face. It was swollen red around one eye and his nose. Brown flecks of paint marred the blue swirls. “That’s not going to solveanything.”He stroked the side of her face, his thumb lingering across her lips. “If I leave, it will be better.”“Not for me.” Tears welled at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away.He gathered her close again, kissing the top of her head and rubbing his hand on her back. “Don’t cry. ”When Sarah thought about it later, she would realize that he had never added, “I’ll stay.”

“Saddle Club Forever!" Stevie, Carole, and Lisa said.”

“After they broke up, Renaldo's ex girlfriend said to never again date an older woman. And he wisely listened to her, because his mother only had his best interest in mind.”

“The boy should enclose and keep, as his life, the old child at the heart of him, and never let it go. He must still, to be a right man, be his mother's darling, and more, his father's pride, and more. The child is not meant to die, but to be forever fresh born.”

“Hurling the box released some of his anger. It felt good so he swept his arm across the top of his dresser, knocking his pitiful possessions onto the floor, the ridiculous little carved animals, pathetic toiletries and useless old catalog he could never afford to orderfrom. These paltry items were the sum of his entire dismal life.He kicked the frame of his bed, hurting his foot and knocking the light cot awayfrom the wall. Heedless of Rasmussen hearing the noise, he cried out his rage and frustration, tore the covers off the bed, picked up the pillow and punched it. He hurled it across the room. Dragging the thin mattress from the metal mesh of the cot, he tossed iton the floor and looked around, but there was nothing else to tear apart since he owned so little. Laughing at the irony, he sank onto the mattress on the floor, his legs drawn to hischest, forehead bowed to his knees, and his hands cradling the back of his neck.Caught between harsh laughter and sobs, he breathed in hitching bursts. He had no future, definitely no girl, and soon, no home. What the hell was he going to do?”