“My chauffer once told me that I would feel better in the morning, but when I woke up the two of us were still on a tiny island surrounded by man-eating crocodiles, and, as I'm sure you can understand, I didn't feel any better about it.”

“As for myself, the part of me that still believes that I was given up because there was something wrong with me will diminish with the passage of time. But I feel sad when I think about all those years of not really knowing the truth. Would it have made me feel better about myself if I had known my story? Or would it still have taken me this long to understand what it all meant?”

“I'd feel a whole lot better about the two of us if you didn't think I was the go-to guy for breaking and entering.”

“Would it make you feel better if I pretended not to be making it up as I go along? [...] In that case, I know exactly what I'm doing, but please don't ask me about it in any great detail.”

“Tears were dripping onto my dress, but I wasn't making any sound. There was no sound to express thid kind of pain.I didn't want to move, didn't want to do anything. Fang was not waiting for me out in the living room. Tomorrow morning, when I woke up, Fang would still be gone.”

“I put my arm around her and said, "Jas, I have found that when you are troubled, it is often better to think of others rather than yourself. I think you would feel much better if you got me some milky coffee and jammy dodgers and I told you all about me.”