“I know I had that punch comin’ to me. I owed you one. No hard feelings, sugar.” “Speak for yourself.” Pia’s words were coated in frost. “I’ve all kinds of hard feelings going on over here.”

“You know, Michael, I used to sit around looking for a way to make sense of what happened, like there was some kind of answer I could find if I just looked hard enough. Then one day I realized that if there had been one, Dave would still be here. And I wondered if this...this feeling that I couldn't figure it all out...was what Dave had been feeling, too.”

“It's hard for me to speak, whether in English or Afrikaans. The reason I write is because I cannot speak. I feel blunt.”

“But here is the thing. When he gets on me, I suddenly feel I am fat. I feel am terrifically fat, so fat that Rudy is a tiny thing and hardly there at all.”

“The best kind of friend is the one you could sit with,hardly saying a word, and then walk away feeling like that was[the]best time you've ever had”

“Things I can feel. Hard. Soft. Rough. Smooth. But the inside kind of feel, it is all the same, like foggy mush. Is that the part of me that is still asleep? (9)”