“What did you do with memories, feelings, needs, that didn’t belong anywhere?”

“Where do you wanna belong?" I half whispered. His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me."-Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones”

“Being afraid's not always bad." he said gently. "It can keep you moving forward. It can help you get things done."The silence between us was different than any silence I'd known before, full and warm and waiting. "What are you afraid of?" I dared to ask.There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if it were something he'd never been asked before. For a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. But he let out a slow breath, and his gaze left mine to sweep across the trailer park. "Staying here." he finally said. "Staying until I'm not fit to belong anywhere else.""Where do you want to belong?" I half whispered.His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me.”

“I have the feeling, Liberty, that you're hoping for someone to give you permission to do what you want to do.”

“Annabelle’s eyes stung as she stared at him, while need and inexhaustible tenderness gathered like an ache in her body. “I realized something,” she said huskily, “when I was standing outside the foundry, watching it burn and knowing you were inside.” She swallowed hard against the thickness in her throat. “I would rather have died in your arms, Simon, than face a lifetime without you. All those endless years… all those winters, summers… a hundred seasons of wanting you and never having you. Growing old, while you stayed eternally young in my memories.” She bit her lip and shook her head, while her eyes flooded. “I was wrong when I told you that I didn’t know where I belonged. I do. With you, Simon. Nothing matters except being with you. You’re stuck with me forever, and I’ll never listen when you tell me to go.” She managed a tremulous smile. “So you may as well stop complaining and resign yourself to it.”

“So you actually need spectacles,” Leo finally said.“Of course I do,” Marks said crossly. “Why would I wear spectacles if I didn’t need them?”“I thought they might be part of your disguise.”“My disguise?”“Yes, Marks, disguise. A noun describing a means of concealing someone’s identity. Often used by clowns and spies. And now apparently governesses. Good God, can anything be ordinary for my family?”

“No," I said automatically, "don't do anything about Dad. You can't fix my relationship with him.""I can block or run interference.""Thanks, Jack, but I don't need blocking, and I really don't need any more interference."He looked annoyed. "Well, why did you waste all that time complaining to me if you didn't want me to do something about it?""I don't want you to fix my problems. I just wanted you to listen.""Hang it all, Haven, talk to a girlfriend if all you want is a pair of ears. Guys hate it when you give us a problem and then don't let us do something about it. It makes us feel bad. And then the only way to make ourselves feel better is to rip a phone book in two or blow something up. So let's get this straight — I'm not a good listener. I'm a guy.""Yes you are." I stood and smiled. "Want to buy me a drink at an after work bar?""Now you're talking," my brother said, and we left the office.”