“Home can be only one place. That's what 'home' means . 'Two homes' is like 'most unique.' Unique means one of a kind, nothing else like it. And just like something is either unique or it's not, someplace is either home or it's not. Telling me I had two homes just made me feel like I had no home at all.”

“But loving someone isn't only making promises you know you can keep. That's just playing it safe. Where's the moral fiber in that? Loving someone is making promises you want to keep with all your heart, and then doing everything you can to make it happen, even if you fail sometimes. But the point is to try, because that's how you stretch yourself and learn you can do more than you thought you could. And maybe next time, you'll stretch a little farther.”

“A billboard announced JESUS IS LORD AT THE PINE TREE MOTEL."What, nowhere else?" I wondered out loud.”

“And for the first time since coming home, i'm completely happy. It's strange. Home... to be here, in my technical house, and discover now someplace different... Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?... For the two of us, home isn't a place. It's a person. And we're finally home.”

“I'd forgotten that all runaway stories end like this. Everyone goes home. Dorothy clicks her way back to Kansas, Ulysses sails his way home to his wife, Holden Caulfield breaks into his own apartment ... Here I was, just like Ian, just like Dorothy and everyone else, heading back home at last ... You think you can't go home again? It's the only place you can *ever* go.”

“Home. One place is just like another, really. Maybe not. But truth is it's all just rock and dirt and people are roughly the same. I was born up there but I'm no stranger here. Have always felt at home everywhere, even in Virginia, where they hate me. Everywhere you go there's nothing but the same rock and dirt and houses and people and deer and birds. They give it all names, but I'm at home everywhere. Odd thing: unpatriotic. I was at home in England. I would be at home in the desert. In Afghanistan or far Typee. All mine, it all belongs to me. My world.”

“No matter what,” he said, his voice fierce and strong and rumbling through me. “You told me I was home to you and I get it. You’re home to me. I’ve never had a home. I like the one I found and I’m not losin’ it. No matter what.”