“And it occurred to me; I was not part of the action. Oh God, I thought, I'm not an anthropologist. I'm the lonely voice-over narrator of adolescence. The bitter, voice-over voice.”

“Who watches over us when we leave?  Who remembers our names when disappear ourselves from home? Who hears the absence of our voices?  Who misses the sound of our stories?”

“So planning something big.""If this is the work of the Overtakers, we've never seen anything like it.""It is," a voice said behind them. Maybeck slipped in alongside of them."You about scared the pee out of me!" Charlene complained.”

“I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)”

“despair threatens to overwhelm me.i have no life. my friends only tolerate me, they don't really like me. i'm just useful to have around. if i wasn't here they wouldn't really miss me. i am not important, not popular enough.”

“Did somebody whisper something? I look left then right. Uh oh. I think I'm hearing voices now. Not, I AM hearing voices I THINK I'm hearing voices. Okay not voices, just a voice. Is thinking you heard it better or worse than knowning you heard it? Does the distinction matter?”

“I'm not a girl. I'm a genius. ”