“I will do all things to please the Lord,for he is my inner strength. He gives and I recieve,though I should give my all like he did for me”

“I eventually came to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards those that had hurt me, I was giving the reins of control over to them. Forgiving was not about accepting their words and deeds. Forgiving was about letting go and moving on with my life. In doing so, I had finally set myself free.”

“I can't survive,' he once told me of his refusal to come indoors,'if I can't hear the orchestra the way I like to hear it.”

“What have I to give my Lord? Just what the wise men gave. Gold—all the things that are wealth to me: money and health and strength and friends. Frankincense—the first intensity of my heart's love and loyalty. Myrrh—my sorrows, my hurts, my trials—and my power to suffer. When I give Him these, I give Him all. And He is worthy.”

“The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, as it pleases him, for he can do all things.”

“Julita was being spinned like a top by a drop-dead-gorgeous Dominicano. Later she told us that he’d asked for her number and she had given him the wrong one.“Why did you do that?” I asked her.“He smelled married,” she said.”

“I never saw a sky like the sky over Dorrego - so vast, so black, with stars in an infinite array of size and brilliance. Maybe it seemed vast because the Earth didn’t get in the way: the countryside around Dorrego is flat, there are no big cities to blot out the stars with their own clouds of gas, their artificial starlight. (Cities have a terrible tendency to try and imitate starlight, you only have to see them from a plane.) …Before Dorrego, I had always thought of the sky as a black screen on which a handful of scattered stars twinkled vaguely, but were no more enthralling than the ceiling of the Cine Opera. Dorrego revealed the other sky, the boundless dome that sends you rushing to a dictionary for synonyms for ‘infinite’; stars that clustered, not into constellations, but into galaxies; stars like swarms of bees which suggested not stillness or permanence but movement, the trail of something, of someone that passed just now, a moment ago, when you weren’t looking. A sky that seemed to suddenly reveal the meaning of all things: Man’s need to create language to describe it, geography to explain his place within it, biology to remind him that he is a newcomer in this universe, and history, because everything is written in the sky above Dorrego.”