“No one knew exactly why the seals ate stones, but maybe, some thought, it was for ballast. Or to help digestion. Or to stave off hunger. Or, as Brown had written in the journal, 'maybe they're just weird.”

“[The waves] move across a faint horizon, the rush of love and the surge of grief, the respite of peace and then fear again, the heart that beats and then lies still, the rise and fall and rise and fall of all of it, the incoming and the outgoing, the infinite procession of life. And the ocean wraps the earth, a reminder. The mysteries come forward in waves.”

“The devices meant to float at sea and capture the waves' power have been destroyed in short order by . . . the waves. "they've all been smashed up in storms," Challenor said, shaking his head.”

“The past was speaking . . . what was the difference now? She had the feeling she'd walked into a house she thought she knew well and discovered a room she hadn't seen before. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe they did have a chance. ”

“Maybe you're not doing it right""I wasn't aware there was a technique to tree hugging.”

“Look, Charlie," said Vince leaning back in his chair. "It's real simple. We will be four people--two men and two women--I figure it's better to have two women instead of three men and one woman so she'll have someone she can confide in and all. Women need that kind of thing. Anyway, we'll be four people--friends--housemates--equal partners. We'll be an alliance. We'll be just like family. And we'll help take care of one another. We'll have a nice home, each with our own private bedroom and bathroom, and a nice yard with flowers.""And maybe a vegetable garden," added Charlie."That's it," grinned Vince.”

“Chust a little farther.   Keep your shoes on.”Peter whispered to me.   “Where does he get this stuff, anyway?   Isn’t it pants?   Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?” “Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important.   Maybe it’s a German thing.” “You know, Chermans can hear very good.   You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.” “We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter. I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.   “Is dat like a fucktart?” “What?” asked Peter, half choking. “Fucktart.   Dat’s a new word I learned today.   Isn’t it a good one?” “I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart.   It’s fucktard.   And you were right before.   It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.” “I didn’t say fucktart.   Dat was you.   You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today.   Or moron.   She likes dat one, too.   I think it means boy I luff.” “Wow.   You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head.   “Seriously.   You fight to lighten the mood.   You call each other names …” “And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.” “Shut up, Bodo!” “You do?   Ew.   That’s a public shower, you know.” “We do not take showers together.” “Yesss weeee doooo … ” “One time!   Okay?   One time.   And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.” “I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.”