“I have also noted, over the course of our friendship, that his hearing is curiously erratic. He can hear a lizard-bird scratching itself half a mile away, but occasionally seems unable to hear the politest of requests no matter how loudly I shout them at him.”

“no matter how big his smile or how loud his laugh, you could hear the hurt underneath.”

“When it rains,” he says, loud enough so I can hear him, “God be wantin’ us to sit still and take notice.”

“But I cannot tell that to this old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh, Adam's son, how cleverly you defend yourself against all that might do you good!”

“Will and I will walk along the beach in Gloucester, and I'll hear him shout over the wind, "Cameron, let's go home," and I'll know that this is what you live for --to hear someone say, "Let's go home," to hear someone you love call your name.”

“I hear everything he's ever painted in his voice. I hear that person on the beach, looking at the waves. I hear hearts rocked by earthquakes and disappointed seas. I make myself look at him because he needs to be looked at. He needs to be seen. I hate that he's been on his own so long, painting graffiti moons and bricked-in birds and keeping quiet about who he really is.”