“I don’t know how to pray,but I’ve seen them do iton TV; kneeling by a bedin nightgowns, hands wovenlike secret friends.”

“I don’t know how you can stand it. Over and over again, the same sadness—”He lifted her up. “The same ecstasy—”“The same fire that kills everything—”“The same passion that ignites it all again. You don’t know. You can’t remember how wonderful—”“I’ve seen it. I do know.”

“You know how to pray, don’t you? Just put your hands together and hope.”

“Every time I think I’m getting smarter I realize that I’ve just done something stupid. Dad says there are three kinds of people in the world: those who don’t know, and don’t know they don’t know; those who don’t know and do know they don’t know; and those who know and know how much they still don’t know.Heavy stuff, I know. I think I’ve finally graduated from the don’t-knows that don’t know to the don’t-knowsthat do.”

“How am I supposed to stop caring? I’ve loved them since I was four years old, and I don’t know how to quit.”

“Do you know how irritating you are?” she said. “Because if you don’t, I’ve got time.”