“An alder tree can't become an oak at will. A maple can't pick up its roots like legs, and stride, step by powerful step, along the shore to find the sun. And everything that ever said otherwise--all those years of school, and the plays and moving pictures that promise you can be someone else, something more--they were all lies.”

“for one precious moment, I believed everything she did was because of love. but now love and power are both shouting their names. I wanted it to be so pure. nothing is ever pure.”

“You come back here, you good-for-nothing! Come help me drag these ailing bones." The old man flees toward the Lethe as fast as his rickety legs will carry him. Like an army scouring the countryside, she surges in his wake, flattening grasses and bushes as she goes. The gap narrows. "Don't you recognize me?" she hollers. "It's me, your sweetie pie!”

“I wanted it to be so pure. Nothing is ever pure.”

“Soil, blood, seed- Let me draw strength from you. let it be enough.”

“it's funny how you can't exactly pick your crush. well, you can, but once it get hold of you, it's hard to shake off. ”

“To be in any form, what is that?(round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back thither,)If nothing lay more develop'd the quahung in it's callous shell were enough.Mine is no callous shell.I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop,they seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me.I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and I am happy, to touch my person to someone else's is about as much as I can stand.”