“Chris just watches, but he can't keep his mouth shut for long. "Excellent, everyone is serving me. I'm glad you guys have finally figured out how it should be...now you just need to convince the world.”

“You said fucking two minutes ago,” Bruce protested.“Sure I did,” Joe said, his tone patronizing.“You did,” Bruce insisted. He was two tables away now, but apparently this was the argument that he didn’t want to let go.“I fucking doubt it,” Joe said”

“I’ve been ‘like part of the family’ before, Robyn… it never lasts. People say the dog is like part of the family, right before they get rid of it because one of the real kids gets allergies.”

“Yes, it's worth it. The pain of sorrow is terrible and hard to bear, but the joy of love makes it worthwhile. p123”

“They're safe,'' he said. "And you're not made of glass". He swept me up in his arms.I laughed. "And I'm not made of glass."He carried me into our room and kicked the door shut behind us.”

“From being quite sure of himself and his future he becomes not at all sure. If he be an imaginative boy a door is torn open and for the first time he looks out upon the world, seeing, as though they marched in procession before him, the countless figures of men who before his time have come out of nothingness into the world, lived their lives and again disappeared into nothingness. The sadness of sophistication has come to the boy.”

“There is a time in the life of every boy when he for the first time takes the backward view of life. Perhaps that is the moment when he crosses the line into manhood. The boy is walking through the street of his town. He is thinking of the future and of the figure he will cut in the world. Ambitions and regrets awake within him. Suddenly something happens; he stops under a tree and waits as for a voice calling his name. Ghosts of old things creep into his consciousness; the voices outside of himself whisper a message concerning the limitations of life. From being quite sure of himself and his future he becomes not at all sure. If he be an imaginative boy a door is torn open and for the first time he looks out upon the world, seeing, as though they marched in procession before him, the countless figures of men who before his time have come out of nothingness into the world, lived their lives and again disappeared into nothingness. The sadness of sophistication has come to the boy. With a little gasp he sees himself as merely a leaf blown by the wind through the streets of his village. He knows that in spite of all the stout talk of his fellows he must live and die in uncertainty, a thing blown by the winds, a thing destined like corn to wilt in the sun.”