“If I could live anywhere, I'd live up in the Mountains where it's cool, and far away from everything. I'd live like a hermit and write like a fiend.”

“His longterm aspirations were not a subject upon which he allowed himself to dwell. Not because they were in any way bad or bizarre, but because he had come to realize he didn't have any. Nothing specific anyway. He'd never pictured himself as anything in particular. Just a situation where he made enough money doing something... anything... enough to have whatever he wanted. A nice new Dodge pickup. A boat or maybe a little house someplace. The kind of things people wanted.”

“Enlarged sympathy with children was one of the chief contributions made by the Victorian English to real civilization.”

“And now she was found, no longer lost. Like a bag I'd given up for good suddenly reappearing in the middle of the night on my doorstep, packed for a journey I'd long ago forgotten. It was odd, considering I'd gotten accustomed to her being nowhere and anywhere, to finally know where my mother was. An exact location, pinpointed. Like she'd crossed over from my imagination, where I'd created a million different lives for her, back into this one.”

“The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep. ”

“It felt like I'd been living underground, and for a moment, I'd been given this glimpse of the sky. Once you've seen that, how can you go back where you came from?”

“I live alone (but catless, I'd like everybody to know)....”