“He liked to think of himself as fighting trim. At this point though, he was more like pacifist fat. Or at least he felt that way, stuffed to the gills.”

“The way he kissed me felt like a brand. Like he was tattooing himself under my skin.”

“The old woman had an old dog, but he hardly counted any more. He was so old that he looked like a stuffed dog. Once I took him for a walk down to the store. It was just like taking a stuffed dog for a walk. I tied him up to a stuffed fire hydrant and he pissed on it, but it was only stuffed piss.”

“The next day he woke up feeling like he'd been unshackled from his fat, like he'd been washed clean from his misery, and for a long time he couldn't remember why he felt this way, and then he said her name.”

“Someone once told me a joke," he said. "I'd like to be a pacifist, but people keep getting in the way.' I made a decision to fight for my friend in prison. It was a deliberate decision. It isn't the only way-it's just something I decided.”

“Sound doesn't carry as well through gills. You have to use a different level of your vocal chords." I point to the spot just above his Adam's apple. "Higher."He just stares at me, looking confused——but breathing like he was born to it."Pretend you're talking like a girl."No way, he mouths, shaking his head.Stupid male ego.”