“I thought for a moment about the dog. Miffy. I guess no matter how much Rube and I complained about him, we knew we'd sort of miss him if something happened to him. It's funny how there are things in this world that do nothing but annoy you, but you know you'd miss them when they're gone. Miffy, the Pomeranian wonderdog, was one such thing.”

“See, Cameron. The only things I care about in this life are me, you, Mum, Dad, Steve and Sarah. And maybe Miffy. The rest of the world means nothing to me. The rest of the world can rot.'Am I like that too?'You? No way.' There's a slight gap in his words. 'And that's your problem. You care about everything.'He's right.I do.”

“I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her.”

“I don't really know that this story has a whole lot of things happen in it. It doesn't really. It's just a record of how things were in my life during this last winter. I guess things happened, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I want to talk to him.I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her.Nothing, however, exits my mouth. How well do we really let ourselves know each other?There's a long quietness until I finally break it open. It reminds me of someone breaking bread and handing it out. In my case, I hand out a question to my friend.”

“He's been to the brink and come back. I guess when you lose your pride, even for just a moment, you realise how much it means to you.”

“I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing—that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, swapping them around. They're the best moments in a day of writing—when an image appears that you didn't know would be there when you started work in the morning.”