“God Sophie... If there were any chance we could be together... If there were any woman I'd want to be the mother of my... Shit, this is so hard.""No, Hunt, it's simple. If right now is all we have, if this is all we get, then I'll grab it with both hands and take all I can.”

“The best fact I know is that kindred souls collect like dew to morning thistle. So if any of this gets out of hand, or collapses to pillars of bromide and dust, or our solitary struggle is cheapened and dashed, I'll die knowing we were all stupid in stupid togetherness, and the allure, lustre, good in that phrase consoles my wanting spirit, that we made it all too messy, but kicked out the jams in the process.”

“I felt an overwhelming gratitude in my life right now and wanted a chance to acknowledge it. I felt that any thanks given to any god all went to the same place, anyway, no matter what religion you were centered in.”

“We were all in it together, of course, desperate to regain some hypothetical upper hand by any means necessary.”

“it could all be so simple, but you'd rather make it hard, lovin you is like a battle, and we both end up with scars, tell me who i have to be, to get some reciprocity..”

“The world moves on so fast, and we lose all chance of being the women our mothers were; we lose all understanding of what shaped them.”