“In the middle of my depression, somebody told me about a self-helpgroup for people who wanted to persue personal visions, and I thoughtthat might be just the thing for me, since I no longer had any. So Iwent to this Goals Meeting. It was in an Episcopal church in the leafysuburbs, and when I walked inside, a nice lady was explaing that herGoal was to get out of debt and buy a pony for her little daughter. Then this other fellow got up to share. He was a white boy in adashiki. He said, "My name is Ira and I have a Goal. Right now I'munemployed and in debt and I'm living with my parents, who don'tunderstand me at all. But my faith in this program is so huge that Iknow that one year from today I'm going to be traveling across theUnited States with my Spirit Guide. My Spirit Guide is going to be awhile malamute dog named Isis. I mean, I know this as clearly as I'veknown anything in my life. My Goal is for Isis to guide me to thehomes of my favorite self-help authoers. Isis is going to take me tomeet John Bradshaw and Louise Hay and M. Scott Peck, and I'm going toget them to mentor me!" He kind of bellowed this. And I wasn't surewhether Ira was exactly what John Bradshaw and Louise Hay and M. ScottPeck deserved or whether I hoped they kept shotguns in their homes. Iwas honestly torn.”

“I'm a survivor. I was thinking about what you said, and you're absolutely right - I have to let go to continue. This devastating news is not going to slow me down. I'm my own person. I always have been. I've never believed in those people who blame everything on their parents - you know, I'm a fuck-up because my father was a fuck-up. Or I'm a drunk because my mother was an alcoholic. So my father was a hit man? Maybe. So he murdered my mother? Maybe. I don't know any of these things for a fact. But I'm accepting them, and I'm beginning to realize they're not part of who I am.”

“Goals are my north star.  My compass.  The map that guides me along the road I wish to travel.  Goals are motivations with wind in their sails—they carry me forward despite the storms.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I've changed so much, my wife is even gonna recognize me whenever it is I get back to her, and how I'll ever be able to, tell about days like today. Ahh, Ryan. I don't know anything about Ryan, I don't care. The man means nothing to me; he's just a name. But if, you know, if going to Rem"al, and finding him so he can go home, if that earns me the right to get back to my wife, well then, then that's my mission.”

“I'm never going to accomplish anything; that's perfectly clear to me. I'm never going to be famous. My name will never be writ large on the roster of Those Who Do Things. I don't do anything. Not one single thing. I used to bite my nails, but I don't even do that any more.”

“ "I gave up a world for you." He glared at me, not giving me anything. I kept right on going. "I thought, perhaps, when I learned I had powers, I might be able to use them to go home," his eyes flashed but that was all I got so I kept on going, "but not for good. My father isn't dead." Another flash. "He's alive and at home and living maybe with a fake Circe. He'll know the difference, though, I KNOW it. He's out of his mind with worry, I know that too. He's wondering where I am and if I'm okay and how to get me back. I also know that. I know that and I know that my life was good. I loved my life. I loved my home. I loved my job. I had a lot of people who loved me that loved me back." I sucked in a breath and then whispered, "But as much as your world scared me, as much as our practices repulsed me, I still chose you." His torso jerked, it was almost imperceptible, but I caught it. I kept at him. "I gave up my world for you, Lahn. I sat at your side through things people in my world would find loathsome and I did it with my head held high. I even felt 'pride' that I could endure, that I could be a good queen to you.......Everything I did in this fucking place, even before I fell in love with you, was for...fucking...YOU." ”