“The things we surrender to when we're young, we keep surrendering to the rest of our lives.”
“But sometimes we crave the love of those we’re afraid to hate.”
“Your problem is that you don’t know how to be happy with unhappiness.”
“It's not enough to step in front of people's bullets; you have to be bulletproof too. You have to be harder than anything anyone else can throw at you, and sometimes you risk losing yourself just trying to save yourself.”
“They hate what’s different because they’re all so fucking alike.”
“Surprise, surprise—the good guys don’t always win. Sometimes, they’re lucky if they just get to keep on being the good guys.”
“So now she was trying her best to make conversation, but a parent can't leave a child alone for so long and expect the occasional nicety to count for much. Those bonds break away much more quickly and permanently than most people would like to believe.”
“Maybe it’s the way you talk, or the color of your skin, or the color of your underwear, or whether you’ve got a clip-on around your neck. Assholes will find a reason to fuck with you.”
“Those who grow up being told they’re worthless start to believe it. When someone thinks they don’t deserve happiness, it becomes easier to sabotage it than to live with it. They never admit this, especially to themselves. But they always shoot the albatross.”
“If you start letting people push you around, you’ll always be at the mercy of losers like that.”
“She deserves heaven, I think. Silly as that sounds. I hope she got there. She never hurt anybody.…” His voice drifted so low he was hard to hear. “But I’ve hurt people.… I’d have hurt those guys today. All for a girl.” He snorted a laugh, but it could have been a cough. “One I couldn’t even … tell the truth to.”
“My mom, she … I guess she worried a lot. We learned a lot about a lot of religions, I guess as a kind of insurance policy.”
“Your problem is you don't know how to be happy with your unhappiness.”
“So don’t forget.” “Forget what?” he said, scowling. She smiled. That little half smile. Her true smile. “Now you do have a secret.”
“She’s the devil,” he grumbled softly. “Yeah…,” Davidek said, wiping his mouth as his eyes still followed her. “But the devil sure tempts.”
“Yeah, kids who trash bathrooms. Maybe those kids are matter more than even the good little ones who sit in the front row and try to answer every question.”
“Stein stepped in front of other people’s bullets. He let himself absorb the worst the world threw at the people he cared about. Maybe that did make him strange or crazy; Davidek didn’t know anyone else like that.”
“Things had changed. A boy learns a lot in his first year of high school. One was a simple lesson that a lot of people figure out around his age: Surprise, surprise—the good guys don’t always win. Sometimes, they’re lucky if they just get to keep on being good guys.”
“Maybe you can’t blame people for the pain that makes them who they are. Maybe that was just one more bullet you had to step in front of for someone you were supposed to love—even if you didn’t want to. Even if it hurt. Maybe that was love.”
“Maybe you can't blame people for the pain that makes them who they are. Maybe that was just one more bullet you had to step in front of for someone you were supposed to love - even if you didn't want to. Even if it hurt. Maybe that was love.”
“This is your school, Davidek. Your life, your place in the world—a bunch of blank pages. You got to fill it up with what you want.”
“The Big Tell-Off, when even Lorelei Paskal, once one of the most helpless of all St. Mike’s students, would instruct them to go and eat shit.”
“Zimmer had gotten used to solitude, what Stein might have called being happy with his unhappiness.”
“His father, a failed cop who found sporadic work as a security guard after alcoholism cost him that job, just assumed his son was queer, and after he died, Zimmer’s mother decided to finally ask him directly, which he knew was very painful for her. It was painful for him, too, so he hoped a blunt answer would make her never ask again: “No, Mama,” he said. “I’m just ugly.”
“I’m sorry, Mom … Dad…,” he said to the emptiness around him. “From now on, your grass is gonna grow wild.”
“June Davidek’s son glared hard into her eyes. “Do I have to repeat it for you?” he asked.”
“His Friday-night poker buddies would tease the priest, “Ah, better go to confession, Father!” And he would close his eyes and say: “I forgive myself.”
“The kids called him Father Pimp.”
“Tough times,” she repeated. “Actually, it’s because the church is putting pressure on Father Mercedes, he’s kicking Sister Maria’s ass, she’s beating up on the teachers, and the teachers are coming down as hard as they can on the students, who are shoving it back on each other. Everybody’s pissed off and wants to fucking hit somebody, but this whole system has only one rule: You can’t hurt anyone who can hurt you back. So Sister Maria can’t clock Father Mercedes, the teachers can’t tell Sister Maria to fuck off, and the students can’t punch out the teachers. They have to take it out on someone else. That’s you and me. We’re at the bottom of the pyramid—or, at least, we used to be.”
“His footsteps caught the worried attention of the old couple. There was another door”
“Grief moves us like love. Grief is love, I suppose. Love as a backwards glance.”
“It took strength and courage to know when you were at the outside of what you could handle.”
“There was the whole world; if she loved him like this, nothing could make them wretched; his love would be enough for her, - and for him hers was an empire.”
“We're still dealing with the consequences of our actions. The people you drag down with you never go away. You have to pay a penance for your sins.”
“If you wait for someone else to make things better, you'll be waiting a very long time”
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