“Each morning, before Jackie started her studies, she wrote on a clean piece of paper: Tarde venientibus ossa.To the latecomers are left the bones.”
“I always start writing with a clean piece of paper and a dirty mind. ”
“She wrote a long letter on a short piece of paper”
“her spine was the crease on a piece of paper, her bones no more than diagonal folds on a bit of origami”
“This is what happened when one left one's home - pieces of oneself scattered all over the world, no one place ever completely satisfied, always a nostalgia for the place left behind. Pieces of her in Vietnam, some in this place of bone. She brought the letter to her nose. The smell of Vietnam: a mix of jungle and wetness and spices and rot. A smell she hadn't realized she missed.”
“Sometimes she missed people before they even left her, got depressed about a vacation being over before it started.”