“All the dead bolts, pulled shades and hidden knives in the world couldn't protect you from the truth.”

“If your twin was dead, were you still a twin?”

“I didn't respond to him. Couldn't speak at all. Couldn't look at his self-mutilation--not even the clean, bandaged version of it. Instead, I looked at my own rough, stained house painter's hand. They seemed more like puppets than hands. I had no feelings in it either.”

“She's got a certain feisty charm for a racist. Not to mention all those great dead-animal stories.”

“Audry Hepburn on the cover of The Nun's Story was staring up at me from my unmade bed. Her hair was hidden by her snow-white wimple; her big eyes looked frightened."What are you looking at?" I said. "Fuck you." It was the first time I'd ever said the word. I felt a brief shiver of power.Then I sat back on the bed and sobbed. Dolores Price: Lady of Sorrow.”

“I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family's, and my country's past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things.”

“You sit around feelin' sorry for yourself and you're dead. Sittin' on your ass can get to be a disease worse than what you got.”