“Meaning to ask, where'd all them scratches come from? Lookin like you had yourself a knife fight with a dwarf, aye?”

“Letter from Mr. B:Why does a back scratch feel better coming from somebody else than if you do it yourself?”

“She raises her brows at Thomas and Carmel."How do you want to room? The two of you and the two of us? Or boys in one, girls in the other?""Boys in one," I say quickly."Right. Back in a minute." Jestine gets up to make the arrangements, leaving me with my gaping friends."Where'd that come from?" Carmel asks."Where'd what come from?"As usual, playing dumb gets me nowhere.”

“I figure you really wanted me you'd say. Like now, maybe, if you dig. I'll fuckin carry you down your place on a run, you tell me aye, get you on your back afore the next word comes out your mouth. But you oughta have yourself certain, causen I ain't lookin for charity, an I ain't lettin you go after. Once...once ain't enough for me, dig?”

“There were no words for that, no ceremony that would garantee your future. Every day was just that: a day, a blank, a nothing, in which you had to invent yourself and your friendship from scratch. The weight of everything you'd ever donewas nothing. It could all vanish just like that. Just like this.”

“I shrug, and then we sit awhile without saying anything. Then he goes, 'Where'd you learn to fight like that, anyway?'I start to shrug again, and then I stop. 'I guess from my dad,' I say, which, really, is the truth.”