“Cancer. The word meant the same to me as tsunami or piranha. I had never seen them; I wasn't even quite sure what they were, but I knew they were bad and I knew in many cases they were deadly.”

“At home there were cards and calls from friends and family. I heard from people I had not seen in years and was surprised they even knew I had cancer. These messages in particular gave me what I think ill people need most, a sense that many others, more than you can think of, care deeply that you live.”

“I wasn't quite as certain that I knew her soul. When it came right down to it, I wasn't sure she knew me either.”

“I knew you were meant to kiss girls, but there was something else that you were meant to do first, and I didn't know what that was.”

“I knew people were talking, but I wasn't listening. I wasn't interested in anything anyone had to say.”

“Grandmother pointed out my brother Perry, my sister Sarah, and my sister Eliza, who stood in the group. I had never seen my brother nor my sisters before; and, though I had sometimes heard of them, and felt a curious interest in them, I really did not understand what they were to me, or I to them. We were brothers and sisters, but what of that? Why should they be attached to me, or I to them? Brothers and sisters were by blood; but slavery had made us strangers. I heard the words brother and sisters, and knew they must mean something; but slavery had robbed these terms of their true meaning.”