“Once in a while I go off on a spree and make a fool of myself, but I always come back, and in my heart I love her all the time.”

“I made such a fool of myself,” she lamented.“Love does not make you a fool.”“He didn’t love me back.”“That does not make you a fool, either.”“Just tell me …” Her voice cracked. “When does it stop hurting?”“Sometimes never.”

“I like spending all my time making things with my hands. Mostly I make love to myself.”

“At that time I told myself that I didn't want to fall in love ever again. But that night while praying for your happiness Nana, I thought that despite all the wounds and all the pains it could cause I wanted to dream again, and love someone with all my heart.”

“Now while it's hanging in the gallery I pine for it. But once it's on my own wall, perhaps it will be different -- once it's here all the time, every time I lift my eyes ... when I come into the living room in the morning and in the evening ... Will it make me happy? Yes, a voice inside him said, it will make you happy.”

“No wonder Mama went away in her head when Clover passed on. And then Papa. I am going to visit my Mama tomorrow and tell her I am sorry for everything I ever did that caused her sorrow or worry, and for ever wishing, during those days, that she would come back. She probably wanted to stay there. It's a wonder she came back at all. If I knew how to make myself go away in my head, I declare I would.”