“And I know fuck isn’t a word that Mormons say, but I don’t say this word I only think it, so it doesn’t really count.”
“This really isn’t fair,” Mena said. “What is ‘fair’?” asked one of the watchers called Devoth. “I don’t know this word.”
“It isn’t what you say that counts, it’s what you don’t say.”
“My favorite uncle was gay,” she says, “and he doesn’t like to dance, either.” She looks at Chad. “I don’t like that word. Fag. Don’t use it, okay?”
“Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He thinks I don’t know the ten-dollar words. I know them all right. But there are older and simpler and better words, and those are the ones I use.”
“- I don’t know what else to say.- There is nothing else to say. A few minutes of words can’t change years of absurdity.”