“I'm a mess of unfinished thoughts.”

“And I circle ten thousand years long; And I still don't know if I'm a falcon, a storm, or an unfinished song.”

“What a mess we are, I thought. But this is usually where any hope of improvement begins, acknowledging the mess. When I am well, I know not to mess with mess right away; I try to let silence and time work their magic. [p. 100]”

“What is your problem?” I asked, scooping the freezing mess out of my cleavage. “We got unfinished business,” he reminded me. “My name’s not Bill.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I loved that movie. Shoulda brought a katana, but it seemed like an unfair advantage.”

“In the dead hour the ghosts creep out of the bush and go howling across the dunes, screaming their unfinished business to the night. But I'm nothing to them so they ignore me.”

“Don't you see? It's getting to us. The doll is messing with our feelings. I'm filled with all these thoughts of warmth and love and respect for all of you. Get it out." I went to the sink to splash water on my face.”