“I still think of myselfas a broken place, a drifting islewith no home.—Quebrado”

“All you men still have the Victorian hangover. I suppose you think woman’s place is in the home, too?” “Not my home.”

“She wants to go home, but nobody's home. That's why she lies, broken inside. With no place to go, no place to go, to dry her eyes, broken inside...”

“I have spent all my years accepting sad truths.—Quebrado”

“No matter how invisibleI feel, I will always be wrappedin the memoryof life as a captive.—Quebrado”

“It’s funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, ‘I want to go home.’ But then you come home, and of course it’s not the same. You can’t live with it, you can’t live away from it. And it seems like from then on there’s always this yearning for some place that doesn’t exist. I felt that. Still do. I’m never completely at home anywhere.”