“Chet! What are you eating?”
Nothing. It was true. The eating part was over.”
“I’d been the best leaper in K-9 class, which had led to all the trouble in a way I couldn’t remember exactly, although blood was involved.”
“Often, maybe even usually, Bernie ended up being the smartest human in the room. Tonight was different.”
“A wild-goose chase! I’d heard that expression so many times but never been on one. It sounded like the most exciting thing in the whole world. Yes, I wanted to go on a wild-goose chase, and if that meant Vegas, so be it.”
“Snacks taste better when you’re hungry, but do they ever actually taste bad? I ask you.”
“The cat saw me at once, of course, and every hair on his body stood straight up, and he made a sound like the mountain lion's roar but much tinier. That's all cats are - midget lions. I'm nobody's midget, baby.”
“That is how you know you've left childhood behind - when you wish for time to go backward.”
“My heart tells me to stop right here, to offer quiet benediction and call it the end. But the truth won't allow it. Because there is no end, happy or otherwise. Nothing is fixed, nothing solved. the facts, such as they are, finally spin off into the void of things missing, the inconclusiveness of us. Who are we? Where do we go? The ambiguity may be dissatisfying, even irritating, but this is a love story. There is no tidiness. Blame it on the human heart. One way or another, it seems, we all perform vanishing tricks, effacing history, locking up our lives and slipping day by day into the graying shadows. Our whereabouts are uncertain. All secrets lead to the dark, and beyond teh dark there is only maybe.”
“I wonder if all women secretly fantasize, like me, about what it would be like to be an extraordinary beauty and bitchy as you wanna be.”
“Perhaps [he had] persevered for too long, in the face of too many obstacles, his hair proof of his tenacity - the stark black streaked with white or, in certain light, stark white shot through with black, each strand of white attributable to the jungle fever (so cold it burned, his skin glacial), each strand of black a testament to being alive afterwards.”
“Mount up and continue,” Patton told his armor crews. “Don’t stop except for gas.” Omar”
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