“This affliction--hope--is so cruel and stubborn, I believe it will kill me”

“A KIND OF ILLNESSThis ache in my chest is a relentless thing, worse than any fever.A fever is gone with a few of Mumtaz's white pills. But this illness has had me in its grip for a week now.This affliction--hope--is so cruel and stubborn, I believe it will kill me.”

“That first phrase-please bless me, Father, for I have sinned-was so humbling and so total, Matt always felt a kind of absolution as soon as he said it”

“Long time I been on my own, but now really I'm alone. I survive the killing, the starving, all the hate of the Khmer Rouge, but I think maybe now I will die of this, of broken heart.”

“When I have run out of words to copy, I look out the window at this strange place called India. Inside the train, the people around me are snoring. I don't understand how they can close their eyes when there is so much to see.”

“I imagine you working on me as an algebra problem, reducing me to fractions, crossing out common denominators, until there's nothing left on the page but a line that says x = whatever it is that is wrong with me.”

“Rochelle," she calls out, still looking at me. "Is there anyone down at the desk? I need something."I'm too startled to move. Is she going to tell on me, get me in trouble?Rochelle's gotten up; she's banging the toilet stall doors open one by one, checking to make sure no one's in there. When the last stall turns up empty, she gives Amanda an annoyed look. "What do you need this time of night?"Amanda smiles at me, then turns to face Rochelle. "A tampon”