“But it was even worse when you knew at that very moment that there was still time to save yourself, and yet you couldn’t even budge.”

“So many times it seemed like there were chances to stop things before they started. Or even stop them in midstream. But it was even worse when you knew in that very moment that there was still time to save yourself, and yet you couldn't even budge.”

“Because what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn’t even comfort yourself?”

“What was the point in crying when there was no one to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?”

“For the first time in his life, the very first time in his life, he hated her. Or he tried to, at least. Tried mightily. But it is a hell of a thing to hate your own mother, to hate where you came from, to hate what succored you and nourished you when you could not do it for yourself. A hell of a thing to hate that, even when it hates you, even when it calls you a nothing, calls you garbage and tells you to throw yourself away. Because even then, she is still your mother.”

“You know those moments when everything is exactly the way it was meant to be? When you find yourself and your entire universe aligning in perfect synchronization, and you know you couldn’t possibly be more content? I was inside that very moment, and fully conscious of it.”