“There were two things Chris knew well: his rifle and a woman's body. With either, he could spend hours studying their intracacies, their individual quirks and hots spots...their flaws.He knew when one of them was going to jam up and let him down or to give him the shot of his life. Rifles and women - he loved them both, but not necessarily in that order.”

“I hated that I let him touch my sweat, that he knew how I kissed. I wanted to collect my things from him, but the things were only moments.”

“You’ve got to start admitting it.”“Why are you doing this to me? Are you trying to break me?”“No, you won’t break. You’ll bend, but you won’t break. Because until you admit it, it’ll never really go away,” he said. “You might’ve taken control, but that man took something from you he shouldn’t have. And that’s not your fault—whether or not you gave in is irrelevant. Come to terms with it now, Isabelle, before it’s too late.”

“We used to hang out all the time. St. Clair and me.But after you arrived,I hardly saw him. He'd sit next to you in class,at lunch,at the movies. Everywhere. And even though I was suspicious,I knew the first time I heard you call him Etienne-I knew you loved him.And I knew by his response-the way his eyes lit up every time you said it-I knew he loved you,too. And I ignored it,because I didn't want to believe it."The struggle rises inside me again. "I don't know if he loves me.I don't know if he does,or if he ever did.It's all so messed up.""It's obvious he wants more than friendship." Mer takes my shaking mug. "Haven't you seen him? He suffers every time he looks at you.I've never seen anyone so miserable in my life.""That's not true." I'm remembering he said the situation with his father is really terrible right now. "He has other things on his mind,more important things.""Why aren't the two of you together?"The directness of her question throws me. "I don't know.Sometimes I think there are only so many opportunies...to get together with someone.And we've both screwed up so many times"-my voice grows quiet-"that we've missed our chance.""Anna." Mer pauses. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.""But-""But what? You love him,and he loves you, and you live in the most romantic city in the world."I shake my head. "It's not that simple.""Then let me put it another way.A gorgeous boy is in love with you, and you're not even gonna try to make it work?”

“When I met him, he hadn't eaten for days, and lived in a rathole. But his rifle was clean and he had lots of ammunition. Whenever he heard shooting he ran towards it. If it was workers shooting at priests, state officials, capitalists, or cops, he'd empty his rifle as fast as he could fill it. But if two groups of workers ever shot at each other, he'd risk his life by standing between them and shouting, "When workers kill each other, there is no more reason to live! Kill me from both sides."-- Luisa Nachalo”

“seven.seven was when ethan had learned to ride a bicycle.macon was visited by one of those memories that dent the skin, that strain the muscles. he felt the seat of ethan's bike pressing into his hand--the curled-under edge at the rear that you hold onto when you're trying to keep a bicycle upright. he felt the sidewalk slapping against his soles as he ran. he felt himself let go, slow to a walk, stop with his hands on his hips to call out, "you've got her now! you've got her!" and ethan rode away from him, strong and proud and straight-backed, his hair picking up the light till he passed beneath and oak tree. ”

“Here’s the thing about Cricket Bell. You can’t NOT notice him when he walks into a room. The first thing that registers is his height, but it’s quickly followed by recognition of his energy. He moves gracefully like his sister, but with an enthusiasm he can’t quite control- the constantly moving body, hands, feet. He’s been subdued the last few times I’ve seen him, but he’s fully revived now.”