“At ten, I couldn't articulate much but I got the message: to be a true historian, you had to mourn amply and well. (spoken by narrator Ava Bigtree in Swamplandia!)”

“I couldn't find you. I thought you had left. I had a hundred heart attacks in ten minutes, Ava. Why were you in the other bedroom?”

“I couldn't tell you how I felt before talking to Ava, and I felt like I couldn't talk to Ava until she got back. But then last night, there you where, and you looked so beautiful, and I couldn't stop myself anymore. But I shouldn't have done it, I should have stopped it, I should have put you first. I was trying to do the right thing, but all I did was fuck everything up. With you, with Ava, with your friendship...”

“I went into the kitchen ten minutes back. The cat was sitting on the mat." Beale's narrative style closely resembled that of a certain book I had read in my infancy. I wish I could remember its title. It was a well-written book.”

“Well, you look weird. New pajamas? Did somebody exhume you last night?" -- Kiwi, Swamplandia!”

“Please, help me. Young werewolves in love. I turned to walk into the house, moving carefully.I had never much believed in God. Well, that's not quite true. I believed that there was a God, or something close enough to it to warrant the name if there were demons, there had to be angels, right? If there was a Devil, somewhere, there had to be a God. But He & I had never really seen things in quite the same terms.All the same. I flashed a look up at the ceiling. I didn't say or think any words, but if God was listening, I hoped he got the message nonetheless. I didn't want of these children getting themselves killed.”