“I am the kid with the dirty red shoes. That’s not dirt, it’s blood.
”

“Today I am dirty, but tomorrow I'll be just dirt.”

“Now here I am, living in the land of tall pine trees and red dirt hills”

“There's blood, a taste I remember. It tastes of orange popsicles, penny gumballs, red licorice, gnawed hair, dirty ice.”

“As I grew older, I realized that no matter how hard you keep your shoes clean – especially the mid-soles – they will always get dirty since they mostly touch the ground... and dirt. Conclusion? All shoes are destined to be dirty when worn on a regular basis. It's just like life. No matter how comfortable you want it to be, trials and obstacles will always come your way. And you have to face it.”

“I screamed. You told me not to.” He rubs at the soot on one hand with his thumb, then stares at it. “The dirt,” he says, his voice strangely peaceful.“What about it?” she asks. “It’s dirty.”