“To this I replied, "I still think that my body is not merely a sensory appearance, for surely it came from my parents, who were its cause and condition."He said, "If you think that your body came from your father and mother, then what are the beginning and end of these parents? What are their source, their location, their final destination? Tell me!"I answered, "I think that they exist, but I am not aware of what they are. It seems to me that a physical body without parents is not possible."He retorted, "Consider this. Who are the parents of the body in a dream, in the bardo, and in the hell realms?" With that, I arrived at the decision that this body has never existed, being simply a sensory experience.”

“All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parent's can't give. More food.”

“Riddle me this - she is my daughter but I am not her father: who am I?I am a step parent. Ah, but I don't really believe in the term step-parent. I don't think the role exists. Not really. For either in the end you are either a child's parent or you are not. And blood does not have a lot do to with it.”

“You think they liked me?''Sure they did. Who cares, though? They're just parents.''They're your parents,' he said, glancing over at me. 'Plus, I like being liked. Is that crazy?”

“Has it ever occurred to you," he said abruptly, "that parents are nothing but overgrown kids until their children drag them into adulthood? Usually kicking and screaming?"I shook my head.Tell you what I think," he said, "I think that part of being a parent is trying to kill your kids.”

“I sound like an idiot. But what else am I supposed to say? My parents are getting a divorce? I'm practically flunking drawing and literature? My best friend's barely speaking to me and changes the subject when I ask where she was on Saturday night? I think about you all the time and I want your body?”