“This was a different kind of crying”

“My grandfather was crying. The kind of quiet that is quiet and a secret. The kind of crying that only I noticed. I thought about him going into my mom's room when she was little and hitting my mom and holding up her report card and saying that her bad grades would never happen again. And I think now that maybe he meant my older brother. Or my sister. Or me. That he would make sure that he was the one to work in a mill. I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't know if it's better to have your kids be happy and not go to college. I don't know if it's better to be close with your daughter or make sure she has a better life than you do. I just don't know.”

“She wasn't bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time. ”

“Go for the knees, throat, and eyes"And I did. And I really hurt Sean. And then I started crying.”

“I read the book again that night because I knew that if I didn't, I would probably start crying again.”

“He was the boy that made mix tapes with themes and hand-colored covers until the day he hit my sister and stopped crying.”

“Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense.”