Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness. (p.36)

The Gunman is useless. I know it. He knows it. The whole bank knows it.

There was once a strange, small man. He decided three important details about his life: 1. He would part his hair from the opposite side to everyone else. 2. He would make himself a small, strange mustache. 3. He would one day rule the world. ...Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words.

Why me?' I ask God. God says nothing. I laugh and the stars watch. It's good to be alive.

And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.

I’m Angelina,” she says. “Are you here to save us?” I can see a tiny spark of hope awaken in her eyes. “You’re right, Angelina - I’m here to save you.” “Can you? Really?” “I’ll try,” I say and the girl smiles.