“That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. "Do something!" When I slit my wrists. "Help her!" The last time too. "Somebody help her. Help us!" You're helpless, both of you. All of us.”

“It was almost reckless how vulnerable she allowed herself to be; you couldn't help but hate her for doing that to herself, and at the same time hate yourself for giving in to it, and underneath all of that, despite your hate for her, couldn't help but love her.”

“Every single time you help somebody stand up you are helping humanity rise.”

“You think I don't know what you're doing? This is a typical guy stunt. Protect the helpless female, lead the bad guy away and send her scurrying for help." He put a hand on her cheek. "If he caught up to us and something happened to you… I don't know what I'd do." Her lips trembled, though she tried to look angry. "Macho garbage.”

“Goddess” he said. Her voice floated to us. Yes, Child.” Will I see you again?”Just her voice now, young and old at the same time. “In the face of every woman you meet”

“Living your life is a long and doggy business. . . . And stories and books help. Some help you with the living itself. Some help you just take a break. The best do both at the same time.”