“I didn't tell him. And I never told her the whole truth. What would it matter? There was nothing she could do; nothing anyone can do or will do.”

“Stop,' I tell her, stepping between her and the bag. 'Look what you're doing.' Jo gazes down at her hands as if they're not even attached to her body. She lowers them. She says, 'I've got a problem.''No shit,' I reply.Her head lolls back and I can see she's hurting. 'I made you coffee.' I tell her, thumbing at the mug on the picnic table. 'Extra strong.'She asks, 'Did you spike it with arsenic?''We're all out,' I answer. 'Unfortunately, all I could find was Excerdrin.”

“I hope they remember the good stuff, when I was a baby, a toddler, when they still had hopes and dreams for their little girl, their miracle child. In truth they were good to me. They were only doing what they knew how to do; what they thought was best.”

“She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.”

“I knew right then and there nothing was ever going to change. It wouldn't matter if I was tall or short or fat or thin or absent every day. I was a loser from birth.”

“Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?”

“You know what I do to forget the past? I drink my own special concoction. I call it Milk of Amnesia.”