“I miss him like one might miss a scar, or wooden leg, something disfiguring but characteristic.”

“Never kill yourself, son. You might miss something. Like the point.”

“My friend wants to get moving and so do I,' Eddie said. 'We've got miles to go yet.'I know that. It's on your face, son. Like a scar.'Eddie was fascinated by the idea of duty and ka as something that left a mark, something that might look like decoration to one eye and disfigurement to another. Outside, thunder cracked and lightning flashed.”

“I felt like I was missing something. Missingyou more. Missing whatever was going to happen next.”

“I wish I knew. It might make me miss him more clearly. It might have made sad sense.”

“You haven’t missed me for one fucking minute. You have never for one single second in your entire pathetic fucking life missed me. You might have missed fucking with my head, and you might have missed the satisfaction you so clearly got from demolishing me, but those are your emotions you’re missing, not mine. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”