“The fan was spinning and as the shadows passed over the white ceiling I let my eyes unfocus until all of it looked like a universe being born or a planet unraveling, some creation or catastrophe depending on which way gravity was going and where you were standing. So instead of Elizabeth Taylor I thought about stars and how little I knew about them, and how if I was an explorer and I had to sail a boat across the ocean without rador or an electronic compass I’d be screwed because the only constellations I knew were the Big Dipper and Little Dipper and I always got them confused. And even though I knew I’d never have to sail that boat I still wished I knew more about stars and other things. And I wished I could remember lying in the back yard as a kid with my hands locked behind my head, looking up at the night sky and dreaming. But I couldn’t, because it wasn’t something I ever did. It would have been a nice memory though”

“I’d never actually talked to a deaf person before but I’d been swimming and gotten water stuck in my ears lots of times, felt that underwater silence as I shook my head and watched people’s mouths moving without hearing the words, so I knew what it was like for her. I could empathize.”

“There’s nothing about me on the jacket because I have no credentials. I majored in English at school, but I only took one creative writing class. I think I got a B. And I never really thought about getting an MFA. I’m too spiteful to take criticism constructively and I’m only comfortable being honest about people behind their backs, so workshops or group critiques were never what I was looking for. For years I just wrote in journals and didn’t really worry about turning any of it into stories or stuff for other people to read, so I guess I developed my writing style by talking to myself, like some homeless people do. Only I used a pen and paper instead of just freaking out on the street. If they switched to a different medium they might be better off. It would probably help if they had someplace to live too.”

“I was stealing salt shakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small child, I knew it would one day come to this.”

“The sketches in the back are not of a girl that looks like you, Rowan. They are of you. I drew them.""These are me? All of them?""Rowan, I've been drawing you since I was eight years old," he said.My eyes slowly rose to meet his after looking at the dates."How?" It was all I could say."I don't know.I've been having dreams about you for as long as I can remember. My mother always said I'd inherited some of her gifts, that these were some sort of visions,but I was hesitant to believe it until the day I saw you with your grandfather outside. Then I knew it was true.I knew I hadn't been dreaming about someone who didn't exist.I knew because I was in love with you before I ever met you.”

“Ms.Mutou-I was told to write a last will, but…But even if I had possessions that were worth passing on, I have no family to give them to,So I wrote a letter to you, like always..I never could have imagined how shocked I’d been…When I first saw you at the prison.The truth is, I’d been looking for you.On that day that my brother died and I was left alone,Even you disappeared from the television screens…I looked for you…I looked and looked…But I couldn’t find you…I’d forgotten about it…So when I saw you here at the prison…I thought that perhaps…God truly did exist…Thanks to the Thursday that I spent with you,I knew for the first time how it felt to be happy.It was something I couldn’t obtain living by myself…It felt like I understood why people live their lives mingling with others…I won’t put a brave front…And tell you to forget about me, and live your life without letting your past hold you back…I want you to remember me.Just you-…That there was a little person like me…You told me once that even though there was someone you hated enough to want to kill, you were afraid to do it and stopped.I don’t think that you stopped because you were afraid, but rather that you were brave.If I had also done so…Perhaps I could have said to you the word that I could never say…Words…That I haven’t said once…Not since I was born…Probably…Ever since then…Ever since then…I’ve loved you…Live.Even if it’s only for a day…And please find a way…To be happier than anyone else…”

“We lay side by side on the extension roof, hands behind our heads, elbows just touching. My head was still spinning a little, not unpleasantly, from the dancing and the wine. The breeze was warm across my face, and even through the city lights I could see constellations: the Big Dipper, Orion's Belt. The pine tree at the bottom of the garden rustled like the sea, ceaselessly. For a moment I felt as if the universe had turned upside down and we were falling softly into an enormous black bowl of stars and nocturne, and I knew, beyond any doubt, that everything was going to be all right.”