“I couldn't believe it. It was unbelievable, that's why. My face was like a frozen fish finger. All rigid and pale. (But obviously not with breadcrumbs on it.)”

“Not "I'm sorry,Ericka," or "I suck," or "I lost all the feeling in my fingers and couldn't dial a telephone." Nothing!I can't believe what I'm hearing.In fact, I can't believe what I'm not hearing.”

“He suddenly leaned in, and his fingers brushed my cheek. Warmth flooded my skin, and I frozen, waiting for him to pull back. He didnt. The tips of his fingers lingered on my cheek for a moment. Then, very slowly, his hand slipped forward, the palm brushing my skin. Frozen, I stared at him, watching his face as his fingers moved from my cheek to my forehead to my chin, like a blind man tracing someone's features to see them in his mind. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered.”

“That's the damnedest story I think I've ever heard. It's so unbelievable, I actually believe it.”

“Would you like a nice cold fish head? They're frozen solid: frozen head of fish, the eyeballs in there and the skeleton's coming out. It comes with a turnip and a spork." "I was wishing you had one of them left; wishing upon a star.”

“My father couldn't warm my frozen hands.”