“The cocktail she took usually included a mood stabilizer, an antidepressant, and a benzodiazepine for anxiety, although the exact combination was always changing. One drug would make her sleepy, another would give her tremors, and none of the cocktails seemed to bring her emotional tranquility. Then, in 2001, she was put on an anti-psychotic, Zyprexa, which, in a sense, worked like a charm. "You know what?" she says today, amazed by what she is about to confess. "I loved the stuff. I felt like I finally found the answer. Because what do you know. I have no emotions. It was great. I wasn't crying anymore.”

“… ‘Didn’t you ever wonder what it would be like to be with someone else?’ And you’ll say… Lincoln, what will you say?”“I’ll say, ‘No.’”“That’s not very romantic.”“It’s none of their business.”“Tell me, then,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt and putting her arm around his waist. “Tell me now, won’t you ever wonder what it would have been like to be with someone else?”“First, buckle up,” he said. She did. “I won’t wonder that because I already know what it would be like to be with someone else.”“How do you know?” she said.“I just do.”“Then, what would it be like?”“It would be less,” he said.”

“When my mother would tell me that she wanted me to have something because she as a child had never had it, I wanted, or I partly wanted, to give it back. All my life I continued to feel that bliss for me would have to imply my mother's deprivation or sacrifice. I don't think it would have occurred to her what a double emotion I felt, and indeed I know that it was being unfair to her, for what she said was simply the truth.”

“So we know she's safe and taken care of?" Daniel asked, and she nodded. "Good. Then why don't we do something that you want to do?""Like what?""I don't know. What do you like to do?""Um...." Her stomach rumbled, since crying always made her hungry. "I like eating breakfast.""That's so weird." Daniel grinned. "Because I like making French toast.""That works out, doesn't it?”

“This cigarette tastes like ass," she said. I wasn't sure what ass tasted like, but she looked like she would know, so I was willing to take her word for it.”

“I'm always looking for what will make me whole. What will make me happy? Somewhere along the way I started to think it wasn't Helen anymore. She hasn't changed. Her laugh is still the one I remember. Her finger is still the one I put the ring on all those years ago. I can't understand why I don't want to curve next to her, keep her back warm anymore. Surely you don't lose love like keys?”