“Please stop," I said. "You're upsetting the black Santas.”

“IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT MY PARENTS OWN THE WORLD'S LARGEST COLLECTION OF BLACK SANTAS.”

“He was dead before. He knew it, didn't you see it in his eyes? My jacket." "Your jacket?" I say, with enough force that my shaky voice makes Corr start. "How about 'my jacket, please.' " Sean Kendrick looks at me, perplexed, and I can see he hasn't a clue of why I'm upset with him. Why I'm upset at all. I can't stop shaking, as if I've taken all of Corr's trembling and made it my own. "That's what I said," he says after a pause. "No, it's not." "What did I say?" "You said my jacket." Sean looks a little bewildered now. "That's what I said I said.”

“In the years since his murder, we have transformed King into a kind of innocuous black Santa Claus.”

“He turned the haggered, haunted face on her and said, "I want you to stop it.""Whatever you're doing....to try to make me like Pilar, it has to stop. Because it's not fair to her. She's upset right now because I'm acting crazy. But I don't want to be with her. It's you I love. And if you want to get rid of me, then tell me, but don't try to foist me off on somebody else.”

“Please stop,” I said politely—he was that big. One should always mind one’s manners around big things.”