“It was only a phrase that went from mouth to mouth and was never quite swallowed.”
“What?" I asked, swallowing a mouthful. "You remind me of me." "That can't be good." I took another mouthful.”
“Saige, Mother is . . .” I briefly close my eyes and swallow, clearing my mouth from saliva. “Mother is dead.”
“They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge.”
“I distrust pious phrases, especially when they issue from my mouth. I try militantly never to be affected by the pious language of the faithful but it is always coming out when you least expect it. In contrast to the pious language of the faithful, the liturgy is beautifully flat. ”
“with your name on my mouth and a kiss that never broke away from yours.”