“They say of a sniper’s bullet that it if you hear it, then you are safe, because it will already have passed safely by. It is the ones that you don’t hear that do for you”

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

“Can't you hear it?" you said. "When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.”

“I just wanted you to be safe," my mother says. "Do you understand that? Safe, and happy. Anything I could do... even if it meant I couldn't be with you...”

“You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you,” you said with a shrug. “All you have to do is say my name and I know.”“How?”When I looked down at you, I was struck by how much of myself I could see in the shape of your eyes, in the light of your smile. “Sa Cassidy,” you instructed.“Cassidy.”“Say…Ursula.”“Ursula,” I parroted.“Now….,” and you pointed to your own chest.“Willow.”“Can’t you hear it?” you said. ” When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside your mouth.”

“Who do you think keeps this country safe so you can sleep at night?”“I don’t sleep most nights. And to be honest, Your Grace, I don’t feel all that safe.”

“I hear what you say in what you don’t say, you see, because I’m a Helen Keller kind of communicator. Love is just as visible as invisible.”