“it hurt us both when i held you from behindbecause I couldn't change the weather with my arms”

“everything anyone has ever felt is a variation of 'sad' or 'happy' or 'angry'everyone feels the same things over and over again”

“what is the difference between being an independent personand being a person who is accepting of loneliness”

“I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi's mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn't reanimate and try to eat her son.”

“The difference between the truth and a lie is that both of them can hurt, but only one will take the time to heal you afterward.”

“Unlike my dead lover, I refuse to/ choose the day I shock the world. There's no/ mystery left in suicide. The challenge is, my love,/ to keep yourself awake/ despite the sleeping pill doses of sickness and/ despair.”

“I look through the window at the huge valley lit up with different colors. The town is cradled by the dark mountains. From afar it looks as if nothing can get in or out, but judging by the stillness of the view it's as if the citizens have made peace with it and have settled without worry into their insular but protected haven each evening. There are people in the world, I imagine, who are born and die in the same town, maybe even in the same house, or bed. Creatures without migration: have they not lived a life because they have not moved? What of the migratory los González, moving from one place to another and marking every stopping place with angst? What kind of alternative is that? For once my father and I are thinking thinking the same way, sharing a similar yearning for our starting points to have been different, for our final destination to be anything other than the tearful, resentful arrival it is likely to be.”