Yesterday when we went over the plan again and again, I never thought about Grandad showing up. Because I'm an idiot, basically--an idiot with poor planning skills. Of course he's here. Where else would he be? Seriously, what else could go wrong?

He wondered whether growing up was learning that most stories turned out to be lies.

Everything was strange and beautiful and swollen with possibilities.

You can always count on your family to love you. And to betray you. And then to feel guilty about it.

Greg stands up, wiping his mouth. "I saw your mother's trial in the paper, Sharpe. I know you're just like her." "If I was, I would make you beg to blow me," I sneer.

You are the only thing I have that is neither duty nor obligation, the only thing I chose for myself. The only thing I want.

We’re all dying, Cassel. It’s just that some of us are dying faster than others.