“I am officially turning him over to you. He's your problem now. You'll have to watch out for him and that won't be easy. He's naive, gullible, immature, horribly unsophisticated, ignorant about anything worth knowing, and idealistic to a fault." He paused to make a show of thinking harder. "He's also indecisive, pathetically honest, a horrible liar, and too virtuous for words. He gets up twice each night to relieve himself, wads his clothes rather than folds them, chews with his mouth open, and talks with his mouth full. He has a nasty habit of cracking his knuckles every morning at breakfast, and, of course, he snores. To remedy that, just put a rock under his blanket.”

“I tried to show him things, but he didn't seem to study what I showed him. Usually, he just put whatever I handed him in his mouth. He would try to eat anything. I fed him Tabasco sauce and he yelled. Having a little brother helped me learn to relate to other people. Being a little brother, Snort learned to watch what he put in his mouth.”

“I had a nightmare about beingTrapped in an elevator with a self-made man--He was born with a silver bootstrap in his mouth;He pulled himself up by his spoons.But when he lived in the fraternity,Before he could roll his sleeves up and get anything done,He would pack his laundry into boxesAnd mail it off to his mother and his grandmother--They would wash and iron his clothes, And then mail them back to him.”

“Jalil has this habit of not turning his head much, just moving his eyes, skeptical, appraising, not impressed by much. It takes him a while to talk and you might think he's slow. But when you get to know him, you realize he's slow to talk because his brain has already jumped ahead three spaces and he has to back up to deal with you.”

“You were just worried about me." An exhale, relieved that I had understood. "Yeah"I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it"He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think your worth it.""But you don't think you are."His mouth opened. Shut."That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”

“But not you, O girl, nor yet his mother,stretched his eyebrows so fierce with expectation.Not for your mouth, you who hold him now,did his lips ripen into these fervent contours.Do you really think your quiet footstepscould have so convulsed him, you who move like dawn wind?True, you startled his heart; but older terrorsrushed into him with that first jolt to his emotions.Call him . . . you'll never quite retrieve him from those dark consorts.Yes, he wants to, he escapes; relieved, he makes a homein your familiar heart, takes root there and begins himself anew.But did he ever begin himself?”