“The polite thing would be to go back inside, give you privacy when you read it. But, I’m just not that mature.' 'It’s nothing. Fine.' Feeling foolish, Laurel opened the envelope. You might think this is over, but you’d be wrong. I’ve taken your shoes hostage. Contact me within forty-eight hours, or the Pradas get it.”

“Can you go back inside and have a drink while you wait? I don’t like the idea of you sitting outside in your car by yourself. You are by yourself, aren’t you?”“Yes, I’m alone. But I’ll be fine. I just—”“Olivia, I really don’t like it. Can’t you just go back inside? Consider it a favor.”When he puts it like that… “Okay. I’ll go back inside. Just call me when you get here.”

“Can I make you some breakfast? Do you like your eggs sunny side up?”“I’m going to start feeling spoiled if you keep up this grovelling. I’ve already forgiven you, you know.”“Oh, I’m not grovelling. I’m just making breakfast. I figured since it’s your kitchen and all it would only be polite to offer you some.”

“When I’m asked today what someone might have said to get me to change my mind about having either abortion, I tell them it would be this: ‘What do you think would disappoint your parents most? To find out that you’d gotten pregnant, or to learn that you had taken the life of their grandchild?”

“Yeah, that’s my experience. Humbling to the point where you have major regrets about some of the stupid things you said, some of the things you thought were right. You keep going to these countries, and it’s like, you forgot the lesson from the last time. Because the first person you encounter kind of bitch-slaps you upside the head in the most wonderful, innocent way and you realize, God, I’m still an asshole. And this guy, by doing nothing except being broke and so incredibly polite—it takes you aback, you realize, I’m still not there yet. I still have like eight miles to go before I can even get into the parking lot of humility. I have to keep going back. It’s like going back to a chiropractor to get a readjustment. That’s me in Africa, that’s me in Southeast Asia. You come back humbled and you bring that into your life. It’s made me much more tolerant of other peoples—and I’m not saying I used to be a misogynist, or I used to be a racist, that was never my problem. But I can be extremely headstrong, impatient, rude. Like, “Hurry up, man. What’s your problem? Get out of my way.” That sentiment comes easy to me. Going to these countries, you realize none of that is necessary, none of it’s cool, it’s nothing Abraham Lincoln would do, and so why are you doing it? Those are the lessons I’ve learned.”

“Listen, I’m going to give you some advice, not because Ithink you need it, but because I feel like I’ve earned it. The right, I mean. To give advice. Here it is:don’t hold onto things. It’s a problem the men in my family have. It’s taken me a long time to figurethis out. Me, my father, my grandfather, we collect things. We collect miseries. It’s what we do. Butsometimes the best thing to do is to just let things go. To let them pass.”