“These were his people--a strange thought. Maybe not his very own people, as in father, mother, brother, sister, but people just like him. He was lost but not so lost after all.”

“He understands that he sees things differently from the way everyone else does, but he can't put his finger on why. He's not like other people. No one understands him. So he goes through his whole life with this, uh..." he paused, "confusion." Michael looked off into the distance, now seeming lost in his thought process. "Everybody thinks he's very special, but, really, he's very sad. He's so, so sad.”

“His dreams were full of bloodshed. He ran and ran, but wherever he fled, his mother's people and his father's people were in battle with each other. And then Shaftali and Sainnaite both turned on him crying out "No one of your heritage will ever cook for us!""So what?" he replied, absurdly. "At the rate you're killing each other, there soon will be no one to cook for!”

“It's all right. I'm not upset. After all, they were just things. When you've lost your mother and your father, you can't care so much about things, can you?”

“Just seeing other people, people getting on with their normal lives, is such a hard thing after you've lost someone so close to you.”

“All peoples and nations are of one family, the children of one Father, and should be to one another as brothers and sisters.”