“I shouted for no reason other than trying to shout out a bad feeling I had. A certain kind of lonely feeling. A feeling that embarrassed me”

“The Catholic novelist in the South will see many distorted images of Christ, but he will certainly feel that a distorted image of Christ is better than no image at all. I think he will feel a good deal more kinship with backwoods prophets and shouting fundamentalists than he will with those politer elements for whom the supernatural is an embarrassment and for whom religion has become a department of sociology or culture or personality development.”

“I was feeling lonely without her, but the fact that I could feel lonely at all was consolation. Loneliness wasn't such a bad feeling. It was like the stillness of the pin oak after the little birds had flown off.”

“For reasons unknown to me, I was his exception, and as much as I had tried to fight my feelings, he was mine.”

“He taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to shout it out at the top of my lungs.  He taught me to feel—the deep, gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, soul-singing kind of emotion I had avoided for so long.  He taught me about the importance of life.  He taught me about the beauty of death.  He also taught me about love.”

“Sometimes I would get invited to a party or to go out to dinner by oneof them and I would decline. Part of me wanted to go, but those kind ofoutings always made me feel even more alienated than usual. Hearing themtalk made me feel lonely and hateful at the same time. Lonely because Ididn't fit in, never did. When I was reminded, it hurt. And hatefulbecause it reaffirmed what I already knew, that I was alone and on theoutside.”