“Actually, it’s my younger brother who has me ticked, but since you brought up the boyfriend thing, take my advice; Be the black widow. Find a guy, have fun with him, then eviscerate him in the morning before he can brag about it to his friends. (Chrissy)”

“For all intents and purposes, Cammy was now my imaginary friend, since no one could see him except my boyfriend and the satanic chauvinist who tried to kill me.”

“But my friend IS the sea, Mr. Diego. He has been my friend since I was very young, my only friend, and I can't bear to hear him crying. he's lonely. I came here to keep him company.""Boy, the sea is not your friend, especially not today." "Excuse me, Mr. Diego, but I think you are wrong. He is my friend, he says good morning to me every day.”

“He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me... whenever... wherever - in case I need him. And I expect I will - as I always have. He is just my dog.”

“Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.”

“My brother, he says. My brother is dead."And again he asks me to kill him. One more time before he falls to his knees and sobs. And i get it. I do. Because i have a brother too.”