“No one answers. It feels as if I’m not there, as if I’m as invisible as the nicotine they’re inhaling.”

“No, I’m done! I’m tired, I’m sweaty, I’m in agony, and why do I feel like I need to shit?”“It’s totally natural to feel that way,” said Grace in a placatory, calming voice. “Some women even have one during labor.”“What?” The word dripped with horror. “Women can shit when they’re in labor? Tell me that won’t happen to me! Don’t you let me shit, Grace!”

“Things get really dangerous when we start saying I’m the good one and you’re the bad one. What happens in our world is that everyone is the good fighting the good because one side thinks they’re the good and the other side’s sure they’re the good and they’re both calling the other the evil. As far as I’m concerned, the only evil is what happens when that happens.”

“I’m thirty-six years old, but I don’t feel like it. Some days I feel like I’m twenty-one, some days I feel like I’m pushing sixty.”

“It feels so separate, like I’ve touched something that’s taken the color out of me. Or maybe I’m in color now and they’re in black and white.”

“There are moments in my life when I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, doing exactly what I’m supposed to do. I pay attention to them. They’re my cosmic landmarks, letting me know I’m on the right path. Now that I’m older and can look back and see where I missed a turn here and there, and know the price I paid for those oversights, I try to look sharper at the present.”