“-I didn't mean to hurt you.-You shouldnae have been able to.She blinked at that, but knew what he meant.-I suppose not, no. we're still strangers. More or less.-Only in the measure of time could we consider ourselved that.(Graham & Katie)Some Like It Scot”

“I believe how you looked was supposed to mean, something graver, more substantial: I'd gaze at my poor face and think, "It's still not there." Apparently I still do. What isn't there? Beauty? Not likely. Wisdom? Less. Is how we live or try to live supposed to embellish us? All I see is the residue of my other, failed faces. But maybe what we're after is just a less abrasive regard: not "It's still not there," but something like "Come in, be still.”

“We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life. There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye? . . .I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something.”

“Sometimes it hurts to look at you,” I said. I loved that I could say that and he knew exactly what I meant.”

“Even though Graham and I went back to arguing and stealing socks and hiding each other's toothbrushes in the litter box, I didn't forget that Graham didn't think I needed a best friend, because either it meant he thought I was cool enough to handle everything alone or—and this was what I hoped—it meant that he was my best friend, quietly, forever, no matter what.I mean, after all, whose skates had I been wearing?”

“We didn't exactly believe your story.'Then --?''We believed your two hundred dollars.''You mean --' She seemed not to know what he meant.'I mean that you paid us more than if you'd been telling the truth,' he explained blandly, 'and enough more to make it all right.”