“Molly stood up. You made an error! She felt like saying. A bad throw. So what? It's a baseball game. A game. Who really cares? A bad throw? In the great scheme of things? A bad throw? Of course she didn't say that. She understood that your own errors always feel tragic.”

“Baseball really is a glorified game of throw and catch. And if you don’t have guys who throw it really well, you can’t compete for long.”

“And of course she's sad about losing her leg, but she says it's made her realise how many things she hasn't lost...it's like a millionaire who loses a thousand dollars- he's sad, but he's still not that bad off.”

“Have you ever done something that you were really ashamed of? I mean somehing so bad you felt sick just thinking about it?''Everyone has. Why, what'd you do?''I didn't say goodbye to Mum.''That's not so bad.''Did you say goodbye to your mum before she left?' I'd never asked Martin about this before. I didn't want to hear the answer.'She left before I had a chance.''Oh.''That's what I like about you, Faltrain.You always know just what to say.”

“And in that moment he felt- for the first time that optimistic and cheerful boy allowed himself to feel- how badly made life was, how flawed. No matter how richly furnished you made it, with all the noise and variet of Something, Nothing always found a way in, seeped through the cracks and patches. Mr. Feld was right; life was like baseball, filled with loss and error, with bad hops and wild pitches, a game in which even champions lost almost as often as they won and even the best hitters were put out 70 percent of the time”

“Mr. Feld was right; life was like baseball, filled with loss and error, with bad hops and wild pitches, a game in which even champions lost almost as often as they won, and even the best hitters were put out seventy percent of the time.”