“The ones that rip my heart from my chest are the little ones. The children, with tangled hair and dirty clothes, covering their own ugly secrets. And all they ask of me is shelter, food to warm their hollowness, a bed free of nightmares.They look at me, and through me. And it's hard to tell who's more haunted-- them or me.”

“I only have have one question, scraping the inside of me. Answer it, and I will stumble back into her shadow, shut my mouth, never ask again. I've tried to ignore it, but it won't go away. It haunts my dreams, chases me through every single day, and I don't have the strength to turn around, face it down. So please tell me and I swear I'll never ask again. It's in your power to make it go away, and all you have to do is tell me why you love her more.”

“My bodyHealed quickly. But the woundto my psyche was deep.Wide. First aid, too little, too late, left me hemorrhaging inside, the blood unstaunched by psychologicalbandage or love's healing magic.Eventually it scabbed over,a thick, ugly welt of memory.I work to conceal it, but no matter how hard I try, once in a whilesomething makes me pick at ituntil the scarring bleeds.In my arms, Ashante cries, innocence ripped apartby circumstance. Bloodied by inhuman will. Time will provea tourniquet. But she will alwaysbe at risk of infection.”

“But hey,I'm not exactly sold on the idea that love is, in fact, real. Will it find me one day, overtake me, infiltrate my life like sunlight snakes through the cold of morning? Can love thaw me? will it ever?”

“crawling up into daddy's lapwhen dad was stillDADDYnodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heartLISTENINGto the thump...thumpsomewhere beneath muscleand breastbone I remember his armstheir sublimeENCIRCLINGand the shawdow of his voice"I love you, little girl.Put away your bad dreams.Daddy's here"I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that cameHOMEfrom work everyday and insteadof picking me up, chased me farfaraway”

“I hear. Nobody thinks so. But I do. Sometimes people whisper. Sometimes they yell. Sometimes they say mean things. I see more than the TV. It's my friend. I don't have any others, like the kids on Barney do. Why are people afraid of me? I don't want to hurt them. I taste only the sweet air, whooshed through tubes to help me breathe. If I'm lucky a bit of flavor comes with the wind or skin or clothes I smell. I wish my mouth would let me tell Mama I love her. Let me tell Daddy I ms him. Let me tell Shane how good I feel when I see him happy with Alex. I like when I swim because when I float, I am free. I like when I sleep because I dance when I dream. I hear, I see, I taste, I smell, I feel, I dream.”

“It wasn't my first kiss, maybe it wasn't my best kiss, but it was pretty fine, and the fact that he had asked will forever make that kiss stand out in my mind, touch my heart, make me remember a kiss so tender it made me cry.”