“Traffic crawlsCell phone callsTalk radio screams at meBut through my tinted windowI see a little girlRust red minivanShe’s got chocolate on her faceGot little hands and she waves at meYeah, she smiles at meWell hello worldHow you beenGood to see you my old friendSometimes I feelCold as steelBroken like I’m never gonna healAnd I see a lightA little hopeIn a little girlHello world”

“see you tomorrow!" she would say with this sort of brave little smile, waving her hand with a mitten on it which is for some reason more helpless and sweet looking than a glove.”

“Little god, you see the world through such black eyes." "Got no choice. My father give ’em to me.”

“Look into my eyes, and you will see me there--all, all that is in my heart.' 'Oh, I know what I should see there!'...'What would you see? Tell me?' 'There is a little black ball in the middle of your eye; I should see myself in it no bigger than that,' and she marked off about an eighth of her little finger-nail. 'There is a pool in the wood, and I look down and see myself there. That is better. Just as large as I am--not small and black like a small, small fly.”

“You are my sticky little leaf. My beautiful, sad, sticky little leaf, and I want to see you happy and whole.”

“Can I see it?" He blinked, still scowling, "See what?" "Your scar." His expression darkened like a sudden eclipse and I let my gaze grow cold. "You want to hear me scream? Give it your best shot. But until then, every time you take off your shirt, you may as well be handing out my business card. I shoved my blade deep inside you and loved every single inch of it. When I can't sleep at night, the memory of you screaming like a little bitch is my lullaby. And everybody knows exactly what that scar means- that you got your ass handed to you by a little girl. Again.”