“In Shoshone, there's a saying. It's a long one, and it doesn't have an English equivalent, so bear with me.Sutummu tukummuinna. It means, I don't speak your language, and you don't speak mine. But I still understand you. I don't need to walk in your footsteps if I can see the footprints you left behind.”

“You ought to sue.""I don't know how to sew. I tried it once and I almost put my eye out."If there is one thing Sahara Soto and Kerry Thompson have in common, it's their complete idiocy. In the girl's case, it's endearing.”

“Mr. Red Clay smiled; I had the impression it was meant to hide a smirk. "You'll forgive me for saying this," he said, "but I don't put much stock in this country's education system. There's a reason why American schools are ranked twenty-first in the entire world. Let me put it this way, Skylar. There are only three things you need to know in life. Who you are, how the world works, and how you can change it.”

“His words slow my pulse. His fingers, square and even, feel nonpareil entwined with mine. He is symmetry. He is color."Never," I tell him. "I will never go away.""You're sure about that?""I'm sure I can't live with a Ram-sized hole in my chest.""That would be a pretty big hole, I think," Ram says."Don't be so sure. You're short.""Hey," Ram protests."I worry for you on carnival rides.""I get on carnival rides just fine, thanks.""The operator doesn't stop you?""Tim," He pauses. "Sometimes.”

“You'll have to forgive me," Dad said. His mouth was moving very little, a sign that he was tense. "I'm not...familiar with...the protocol. For boys like you. But I..."I felt my face turning red. No, no, no. Quit while you're ahead, Dad. Please."I'm sure you have...urges," Dad went on. "All teenage boys have...urges. I don't know whether you've...tried anything--"I said please!"Just as long as you're safe. That's very important. You still have to be safe, even if you're both boys. I don't know what really...um, entails. You know. How you...do things. I could look it up for you--"I clapped my hand over Dad's mouth. I took him by his arm, my face burning, and dragged him back to the field.”

“I picked up my flute and smiled, eyebrows dancing. "Why don't you show her your straight dance?""Is there a gay dance, too?" Mickey asked.”

“You don't pray?" Ram asks."Which one should I pray to," I say flatly, "the dragon, or the fairy?"Ram stares at me.I tug on my ponytail. "That's our religion," I explain, suddenly self-conscious. "A mountain fairy married a dragon. That's where we all come from." I can see the shy smile poking at Ram's lips. "You're half-fairy?""And half-dragon," I remind him."Right. Definitely.”