“We'd better go," I say. "It's time for you to make Hmong babies."Toua pulls free from my grasp. "You little--""Go. Further the great Flower Clan. The mountainous homeland will sing from your victorious loins.""You're disgusting!”

“I'm one of them. The weirdos and the freaks. My point was that it's ok to be different, and from now on we'd better be, if we're going to make something of ourselves. It's the one thing I learned in school. Different is ok. -Victoria”

“You're it for me, baby. Just you. You're not going to be your mother. You're special and unique and we're going to get you help. But I will be right by your side the entire time. I'll never leave you. I swear it.”

“My angel-boy is close now, as in five-feet-away close. There's no way I'm going to burst into song in front of him. But then the contrary part of me says, you're going to let a boy keep you from singing out loud? Sing, sister! Sing!So I do, and my angel-boy turns his head.”

“If you don't know where you're from, you'll have a hard time saying where you're going.”

“Ryan held out his hands. "What the hell is this? Beat The Shit Out Of Ryan Week?" "I didn't think you'd mind, since you're always insisting upon getting yourself hospitalized,"Claire said.Ryan's face screwed into disgust. "That was uncalled for.""The truth hurts, baby."He smiled. "If you're going to talk to me like that, you can insult me all day long."Claire pulled her car keys from her pocket, and then pulled on Ryan's hand. "I meant that you're a baby. It wasn't a term of endearment.""Yeah, right.”