“He has no clue that I have the patience of a saint. At least that's what Carlos says, although that isn't saying much, considering his fuse is about as short as an eyelash.”

“Then what sport do you play?"Carlos puts down his food. Oh, no. He's got a rebellious gleam in his eye as he says, "The horizontal tango."-------------------------------------------"Dancing really isn't a sport," Brandon tells Carlos, oblivious to the shock at the rest of the table."It is when I do it," Carlos says.-------------------------------------------Brandon turns to my dad with big, innocent eyes."Daddy, do YOU know how to do the horizontal tango?”

“This is God's universe, buddy, not yours, and he has the final say about what's ego and what isn't.”

“Patience is more than endurance. A saint's life is in the hands of God like a bow and arrow in the hands of an archer. God is aiming at something the saint cannot see, and He stretches and strains, and every now and again the saint says--'I cannot stand anymore.' God does not heed, He goes on stretching till His purpose is in sight, then He lets fly. Trust yourself in God's hands. Maintain your relationship to Jesus Christ by the patience of faith. 'Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”

“Normal? I'm not normal enough for you?" Carlos says. "You want this guy instead? Did you notice his hair doesn't move? That's not normal. You want to date him again, go ahead. Hell, if you want to marry him and be Kiara Barra the rest of your life, be my guest.""That's not want I--""I don't want to hear it. Hasta," Carlos says, ignoring me and walking away.I feel my face heat in embarrassment as I look at Michael. "Sorry. Carlos can he abrasive sometimes.""Don't apologize. The guy obviously has major issues and, for the record, my hair moves... when I want it to.”

“That's the positive aspect of trade I suppose. The world gets stirred up together. That's about as much as I have to say for it.”