“We’re stuck now because you wheedledme into falling in love with you. So we get through whatever there is to get through.” He kissed her. “Withor without porn.”

“You got a lot of ladies to get through. You’re still young. First love’s the sweetest, but it doesn’t last.” “Not ever?” I ask. Grandad looks at me with a seriousness he reserves for moments when he wants me to really pay attention. “When we fall that first time, we’re not really in love with the girl. We’re in love with being in love. We’ve got no idea what she’s really about—or what she’s capable of. We’re in love with our idea of her and of who we become around her. We’re idiots.”

“I’m with the fool in the psalm. You thought we could get on without you; no – you didn’t care whether we got on without you or not. You just got up and left. So that’s what we’re doing, we’re getting on.”

“Get through today – you can fall apart tomorrow. Get through tomorrow, you can fall apart the day after . . .”

“Whatever gets you through the night”

“Love will get you through times of no sex better than sex will get you through times of no love.”