“They tied me back together, but they didn't use double knots. My insides are draining out of the fault lines in my skin, I can feel it, but every time I check the bandages, they're dry.”

“You tie me up in knots. I want to play you a thousand different songs so you can get a clue of what... I feel inside me...”

“Mike was right: the pattern of life isn't a straight line; it crosses and recrosses, drawing in and tying together other lives, as I do when I gather in the ends of my thread to make a knot.”

“For the first time, I don't feel the giant hands pressing around my heart. Instead, I feel weightless, as if someone has untied a knot inside me and I am slowly unfolding.”

“I reached to push my hair out of my eyes, finding someone had tied a knot it in. My face screwed up in anger as I realized it was a HAPA knot. Real funny.”

“People are heavy when they're dead. I also nearly ralphed every time I caught a glimpse of the skin flap flapping, and I'd seen enough CSI to know that my stomach contents could be used to link me to the site.”