“Has it ever occurred to you," he said abruptly, "that parents are nothing but overgrown kids until their children drag them into adulthood? Usually kicking and screaming?"I shook my head.Tell you what I think," he said, "I think that part of being a parent is trying to kill your kids.”

“I think part of being a parent is trying to kill your kids.”

“It's as if God gave you something-all those stories- and said, "Here you are. Try not to lose it." But children lose everything unless somebody is there to help them, and if your parents are too stupid to do it, maybe i ought to.”

“When I was a kid, my mother said, ‘Stephen if you were a girl, you’d always be pregnant.”

“You know what talent is? The curse of expectation. As a kid you have to deal with that, beat it somehow. If you can write, you think God put you on earth to blow Shakespeare away. Or if you can paint, maybe you think--I did--that God put you on earth to blow your father away.”

“There were times . . . when it occurred to me that I was repeating my mother's life. Usually this thought struck me as funny. But if I happened to be tired, or if there were extra bills to pay and no money to pay them with, it seemed awful. I'd think 'This isn't the way our lives are supposed to be going.' Then I'd think 'Half the world has the same idea.”

“You've got no right to hate the Major. He didn't force you.""Force me? FORCE me? He's KILLING me, that's all!""It's still not-""Shut up," Baker said curtly, and Garraty shut. He rubbed the back of his neck briefly and stared up into the whitish-blue sky. His shadow was deformed huddle almost beneath his feet. He turned up his third canteen of the day and drained it.Baker said, "I'm sorry. I surely didn't mean to shout. My feet-""Sure," Garraty said."We're all getting this way," Baker said. "I sometimes think that's the worst part.”