“He's really sweet, actually." "I don't think we're talking about the same Sed. Sedric Lionheart. Tall guy. Broad shoulders. Blue eyes. Short black hair. Body befitting a Greek god. Sings. La la la la.”

“Sweet baby Jesus, Blue Eyes was…He was gorgeous in all the ways that made girls do stupid things. He was tall, a good head or two taller than me and broad at the shoulders, but tapered at the waist. An athlete’s body—like a swimmer’s. Wavy black hair toppled over his forehead, brushing matching eyebrows. Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips completed the package created for girls to drool over. And with those sapphire-colored eyes, holy moley…”

“La cucaracha, La cucaracha, Ya no puede caminar, porque no tiene, porque le falta, I don't know the rest, la la la la!”

“...oh that short hair, a la garcon that evokes unfamiliar, boyish kinds of sex.”

“I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told, and I have squandered my resistance, for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises. All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lala-la-la-la-la...”

“El desierto está hecho contra el tacto y es una mitología edificada sobre la sed; matematiza el tabú, la prohibición de tocar que preserva la limpieza original de la criatura. Se constituye en distancias, vistas, memorias, ausencias.”