“Stop jacking with me, Dad. All I ever wanted was the truth.”“That’s the problem. People think if they can add up all the facts, they’ll end up with the truth, but that’s like sewin’ body parts together in the hopes you’ll get a man.”
“Who cares about my voice? There are more important things going on in the world. I want to make a difference. I’m going to law school. I want to become a public defender.”I couldn’t believe she’d give up singing to work with scumbags like me. “By the time a guy ends up in front of the judge, it’s too late to make a difference.”“It’s never too late to make a difference,” she said.“All I’m saying is that with your music you could have an influence on people before they end up in trouble.”
“Do you ever look at the people around you and wonder how you ended up with them?”
“I stand to leave, but my father says, “Wait!” over the red telephone. “Let me just look at you a minute.” He smiles at me proudly. “I know you been in some trouble, son, but you turned out good. That’s all I ever wanted,” he tells me. Then he puts his hand against the glass and I put my hand against the glass. “I love you,” he says.“I love you, too,” I say back.”
“Is she worth all that pain?” he asked me, smiling.“Definitely,” I said, still reeling from the events of the day.“But I don’t deserve her.”“Then be somebody who does.”“That’s what I intend to do.”
“Words are like people, I think. Put too many of them too close together and they cause trouble.”
“Did you know that seventy-five to eighty percent of juvenile offenders can’t read at grade level?”“Really?” This was news to me.“Your world becomes a much smaller place if you can’t read. You have far fewer options. It’s not the only factor, but it’s a big one. If they want to know how big to build a prison,all they have to do is look at the illiteracy statistics.”“They knew I was coming.”“You or someone like you.”“You knew it too, all those years ago, back in Quincy. That’s why you tried to help me. Because you knew I was coming here.”“Here or someplace like here.”