“Same difference,” he said. “The South lost and the North won. Abraham Lincoln came and gave the Emancipation Proclamation.”“The Gettysburg Address,” Mrs. Anderson said. “The Emancipation Proclamation was delivered six months before the battle.”He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Who's giving the report here?”She waved her hand. “Proceed then.”“Like I said, the North won. The slaves were all freed. Hurrah, hurrah. The end.”

“The Battle of Gettysburg was fought in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 18-something-or-nother. The year doesn‘t matter.They considered it the turning point of the war, and President Lincoln showed up to give his big speech. Who really cares what it was called? I don‘t. After it was all over and the North won, Congress passed the 13th amendment to free the slaves. It outlawed owning another person, yada, yada, yada, but it was a waste of time. All of it. Every bit. Completely pointless. All those people died and it didn't change anything, because it doesn't work if they don't enforce it. They just ignore it, turn their backs and say it‘s not their problem, but it is. It's everyone's problem. They can say slavery ended all they want, but that doesn't make it true. People lie. They'll tell you what they think you wanna hear, and you‘ll believe it. Whatever makes you feel better about your dismal little lives. So, whatever. Go on being naive. Believe what the history book tells you if you want. Believe what Mrs. Anderson wants me to tell you about it. Believe the land of the free, blah, blah, blah, star spangled banner bullshit. Believe there aren‘t any slaves anymore just because a tall guy in a big ass top hat and a bunch of politicians said so. But I won‘t believe it, because if I do too, we‘ll all fucking be wrong, and someone has to be right." -Carmine DeMarco”

“He bowed jokingly, and everyone laughed as Mrs.Anderson shook her head. "Did you even read the material?""of course I did.""Who was the leader of the North?""Lincoln.""No, he was the president.""Yes, which means he was the fucking leader of everyone."-- Carmine”

“I’m gonna take a nap, Heaven,” he said, wanting away from her to clear his head. He didn’t like feeling uncomfortable in his house.“Haven,” she corrected him as he started to walk away.“I know,” he said. “I kinda like Heaven though.”She turned to him, and their eyes met for the first time since he’d walked into the room. “Me, too.”

“You’re too good for me.”He laughed. “Are we talking about the same person? The selfish fucker who curses and yells, blows up cars and beats up people, because he has a temper he can’t control? You know, the one who drinks like a fish and fries his brain with drugs? That person is too good for you?”She shook her head. “I’m talking about the boy who shared his chocolate bar with me when he probably never shared anything before, who gave me his mama’s favourite book, because he thought I deserved to read. The one who seems to be constantly fixing me up when I get hurt. I’m talking about the boy who treats me like I’m a regular girl, the one who desperately needs his bedroom cleaned and laundry washed but chooses to live in a mess and wear dirty clothes, because he’s too polite to ask the girl he kisses for help.”“Wow,” Carmine said. “I’d like to meet that motherfucker.”

“They're titles other people give us. They don't make us who we are. If you're just a slave, then I'm nothing more than a Principe. Is that all I am, Haven? A Mafia Prince?"No, of course not."That's what I thought," he said. "Just because some people see us that way doesn't mean it's what we are. We'll overcome our labels together. They don't matter, they don't make us who we are. We make us who are are. Fuck those motherfuckers."She laughed. "When did you get so smart?""Baby, I've always been smart," he said playfully. "I'm just lazy as hell and rarely show it.”

“How about we just be Haven and Carmine?” she suggested. “We don’t know the ending, but we can always hope for the best.”“I like that,” he said. “Besides, there’s a reason we don’t know how the story ends.”“Why?”“Because it doesn’t.”