“Sometimes he thinks that if he could only trace the path of his life carefully enough, everything would become clear. The ways that he screwed up would make sense. He closes his eyes tightly. His life wasn't always a mistake, he thinks, and he breathes uncertainly for awhile, trying to find a pathway into unconsciousness, into sleep. ”

“He understood everything: He could keep his eyes open and the buffalo wouldn't appear, or close them and it would.”

“He needed his solitude at times, but he wasn't a hermit. He did a lot of socializing. Sometimes I think it was like he was storing up company for the times when he knew nobody would be around.”

“And he, in his way, talked with her about everything, and shared with her everything, he thought would not be too painful for her, even though she was gladly willing to pay the pain levy, which was sometimes unbearable, only so that he would not for a moment stop the flow of his talk with her, so he would not filter or protect her or think twice.”

“Every time Tom was tempted to turn back, he made himself think of his brother. Joe, who he sometimes thought had been sent to earth to make his life miserable, who had been a complete pain from the day he was born, who was always getting his own way and who he fantasized about killing at least once a week. Joe, who he really didn't think he could live the rest of his life without.”

“What do you think?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding.I eyed him. "Impressive, but too much."He leaned toward me, the blue eyes smoky with a promise I was shure he could fulfill. I tried not to think of the bedroom."Too much?""Yes. I like the menace. It's very masculine, but he looks like he would screw everything in sight and call me 'wench”