“Her whisper was, Lyman thought, like a Marlin ripping all the line out of a fishing rod.”

“How do you choose between your kids and your parents? I feel like we're all just a bunch of vikings, moving around so we can pillage and burn, make a better living. Some choose their kids, some their parents, and some both. Some people just choose themselves,”

“I’ve come to the end of another book alive. At times like this I’m always at a loss for words.”

“Could we possibly be from the place we want to be? Were we from the place we died rather than the place we were born? Are our aspirations our home? Maybe we are from that place to which we're bound, and that's why desire hurts so much, this longing to find a place to rest, to get home. We're not from the past, but the future.”

“Are we defined by where we want to go or where we've been?”

“Most people think of themselves as individuals, that there's no one on the planet like them. This thought motivates them to get out of bed, eat food and walk around like nothing's wrong. My name is Oliver Tate.”

“I die. O my hair falls out and my flesh rots and my bones are cracked by the hungry ta!a'an. He drops me behind him all around the forest and nothing will grow where his excrement from my marrow falls. As the years pass the forest dies from the poison of my remains. The soil washes into the sean and poisons the fish and all die. O the embarrassment.”