I could just barely see the dark curve of his shoulder, and something about the shape it made, the gesture it suggested, filled me with a sort of fierce, awful affection.

He didn't like to see either of the women in his family disappointed; it ruined perfectly good meals.

He had a carrying, congressional sort of voice, the kind that sounded good saying things like Less of a tax burden on the middle class and Thank you for your donation and Honey, could you bring me my sweater with the duck on it?

Knowing what I was, and wanting me, anyway.

Sam,' the girl said. 'Sam.' She was the past present and future. I wanted to answer , but I was broken.

Rilke says: Verweilung, auch am Verstrautesten nicht, ist uns gegeben - We are not allowed to linger, even with what is most intimate.

In his head, his mother said, 'People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper'.