“Darius was dead, and very soon she and I would meet as equals. But i had the feeling it wouldn't be a day she ended up celebrating”

“I felt confident that she wouldn't find out what a chicken I was,because after the comp,if I hadn't gone off the jump,I would be dead of shame.And if I had gone off the jump,I would be just plain dead.”

“What should I do—how should I act now, this very day . . . What she would resolve to do that day did not yet seem quite clear, but something that she could achieve stirred her as with an approaching murmur which would soon gather distinctness.”

“She was trying to say something else; she was trying to say that the inability to articulate what one feels in any satisfactory way is one of our enduring tragedies. It wouldn't have been much, and it wouldn't have been useful, but it would have been something that reflected the gravity and the sadness inside her. Instead, she had snapped at him for being a loser. It was as if she were trying to find a handhold on the boulder of her feelings, and had merely ended up with grit under her nails.”

“Soon the Boggy Mun would open up shop. I wore no cloak and had no pockets. I carried my knife and salt in a basket. Little Red Riding Hood, skipping off into the woods. And whom will she meet? Why, her own self, of course: the wolf.”

“...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.”