“Finally I knelt on the bed and placed my hand on his back. I patted awkwardly, hoping that was protocol for when someone was sobbing their eyes out. "hey." pat, pat. "It's okay. We'll bust out of here before they tag us." pat, pat, pat. I felt lame”

“I had the good sense even then to realize patting oneself on the back is a waste of time. Besides, there are much better places to pat oneself if one must, indeed, pat.”

“Vi?" Jag's soft voice called from the other room. I'd been soaking so long, the water in the tub was cold. I stepped out, careful not to get the book wet, and wrapped a towel around myself."In here," I whispered. He had switched the lamp on and was rubbing his eyes when I came into the bedroom."Hey."I slipped the book back onto the table next to his bed. "I didn't get it wet.""Not. That." His eyes raked over my only-towel-covered body with a hungry expression."Knock it off." I pulled the towel tighter and returned to the bathroom. He followed me, putting his hand on the door before I could close it. I looked anywhere but at him. Lying fully clothed in bed with him was bad enough.I couldn't help it when I drank him in, starting at his feet and slowly creeping up to his neck, past his chin, lips, nose to his eyes. When I finally reached them, my heart clutched almost painfully. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, playing with the end of my towel."Vi, babe-""Don't talk like that," I said.He smiled his Jag-winner. I took a shuddering breath and tried to focus. "Don't smile like that either. It's not fair.""Okay, then. Let's talk about being fair." He carefully wove his fingers through mine. The way he studied the ground was adorable. He took a few slow steps back into the bedroom, pulling me with him."Jag-”

“It’s impossible for me to applaud your successes when my hands are too busy patting myself on the back. But if I clap for you, and you pat my back, we can both feel like winners.”

“But it isn't that I'm just Pat. I'm both Pat and the person who knows that being Pat is itself a sign of my sickness. I never totally lose sight of that difference, though the degree to which I'm aware I've regressed varies, and there are times when I don't know a life outside of Pat's child world. (103)”

“Pats cīnies, palīdz, domā, spried un sver,Pats esi kungs, pats laimei – durvis ver!”

“I felt on my back gentle pats like fragile wings just touching me, touching me: my grandchildren's hands.”