“Is it not love that knows how to make smooth things rough and rough things smooth?”
“Death smoothes the rough edges, obliterates the cruelties of the deceased. It makes heroes of monsters.”
“How the hell did people do this, this emotion-and-forgiveness thing? How did they stand these feelings? She could barely handle it and she had lovely, necessary, reason-for-living drugs to smooth over the rough spots. How did people do this shit sober?”
“My teachers treated me as a diamond in the rough, someone who needed smoothing.”
“I come from Detroit where it's rough and I'm not a smooth talker.”
“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)”