“Is that not the perfect visual image of life and death? A fish flapping on the carpet, and a fish not flapping on the carpet. So powerful even a five-year old child with no concept of life and death knew what it meant. Not only did she know Emilio was dead, she knew she had killed him. So she comes running into my room, holding Emilio in both of her little hands - it was so cute - and she wanted me to make Emilio better. And I asked her, why did she step on Emilio? And she said, she didn't know. But I knew why. You didn't mean to hurt Emilio, you just wanted to see what would happen if you stepped on him, right?”

“Emilio appeared with wine before Cal could say anything, and Min beamed at him, grateful for the rescue. "Emilio, my darling. I forgot to mention cake boxes. Two hundred cake boxes.""Already on it," Emilio said. "Nonna said you'd need them. She said to get four-inch-square boxes for three-inch-square cakes.""I'm getting the boxes," Min said, nodding. "Sure. Great. Fine. Your grandmother is an angel and you are my hero. And of course, a genius with food.""And you are my favorite customer." Emilio kissed her cheek and disappeared back into the kitchen."I love him," she told Cal."I noticed," Cal said. "Been seeing him behind my back, have you?""Yes," Min said. "We've been having conversations about cake.""Whoa," Cal said. "For you, that's talking dirty.”

“Liz wrenched her hand from his grasp, and this time, she stepped boldly forward. “I will stay and Michael can go.”  Her voice did not waiver as she pronounced her own death sentence. No matter what happened to her, she knew she couldn’t let him die.”

“People said things they didn't mean all the time. Everybody else in the world seemed able to factor it in. But not Lena. Why did she believe the things people said? Why did she cling to them so literally? Why did she think she knew people when she clearly didn't? Why did she imagine that the world didn't change, when it did? Maybe she didn't change. She believed what people said and she stayed the same." (Lena, 211)”

“My mother is no longer shouting or shaking me, but she is still holding me very tightly. Even though I didn't speak out loud, she heard me and understood. "Don't you know?" she asks me back. "Don't you know who you are?" Tears are sliding down her cheeks and falling off onto my face. I never knew how hot someone else's tears feel. "You're part of me," she says, as if it is the deepest truth she knows. "You're all the family I have. The only person I can count on. You're flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood, my only baby, and nothing else comes close to that. Nothing."And then she runs out of words, so she just clings to me, and not all the doctors in the world can pull her away.”

“What the hell was that?""Puma," he said. "Mountain lion.""I knew that was a lion." She stopped suddenly. "You didn't hurt him, did you?""Marcie, he wanted to eat you! Are you worried about his soul or something?""I just wanted him to go away," she said. "I didn't want him to go dead."-Marcie and Ian”

“I remember when my daughter was just learning her letters. She was playing in her room and came downstairs to ask me, “Momma, what does C-H-I-N-A spell?” “China,” I told her (she knew what the word meant—she had friends from there). “So,” she asked next, “why is it written on everything?”