I can't think of anything I'd rather have more than somebody lovin' me.

It's something everybody wants-for someone to see the hurt done to them and set it down like it matters.

If someone should ask me, 'What does the soul do?' I would say, It does two things. It loves. And it creates. Those are its primary acts.

You gotta imagine what's never been.

I'm tired of carrying around the weight of the world. I'm just going to lay it down now. It's my time to die, and it's your time to live. Don't mess it up.

I don't remember what they said, only the fury of their words, how the air turned raw and full of welts. Later it would remind me of birds trapped inside a closed room, flinging themselves against the windows and the walls, against each other.

Novels attempt to render human experience; that's really all they are. They are meant to convey empathy for the character.