“Why should being quiet mean you're in love?Because, she said. That means you aren't nervous with each other, or affected, or likely to be hiding intentions behind too much conversation. A friendly silence can speak between two who will walk together a long way, she said.”

“Being Mexican... means being there for each other. It's togetherness, like a familia. We should be helping one another, cheering our friends on.”

“She said love was useless, because it led you into dumb exchanges in which you gave too much away, and then you got bitter and mean.”

“Eliza—” I said, “so many of the books I’ve read to you said love was the most important thing of all. Maybe I should tell you that I love you now.” “Go ahead,” she said. “I love you, Eliza,” I said. She thought about it. “No,” she said at last, “I don’t like it.” “Why not?” I said. ”It’s as though you were pointing a gun at my head,” she said. “It’s just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don’t mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, ‘I love you, too’?”

“You said you were a victim. That's why...that's why ultimately, you and I aren't matched for each other. In spite of everything that's happened, I've never though of myself that way. Being a victim means you're powerless. That you won't take action. Always...always I've done something to fight for myself...for others. No matter what.”

“You're the strangest person I ever met, she said & I said you too & we decided we'd know each other a long time.”