“Happy as a clam, is what my mother says for happy. I am happy as a clam: hard-shelled, firmly closed.”

“There I am, in the Grade Six class picture, smiling broadly. Happy as a clam, is what my mother says for happy. I am happy as a clam: hardshelled, firmly closed.”

“They say:Speak for us (to whom?)Some say: Avenge us (on whom?)Some say: Take our place.Some say: WitnessOthers say (and these are women)Be happy for us.”

“How were we to know we were happy?”

“The picture is of happiness, the story not. Happiness is a garden walled with glass: there's no way in or out. In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys. It's loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road.”

“Possible, impossible. What could be done? We thought we had such problems. How were we to know we were happy?”

“These things sneak up on him for no reason, these flashes of irrational happiness. It's probably a vitamin deficiency.”