Whistling In the Dark

...things happen when you least expect them. Things that can change your whole life.

...things can happen when you least expect them so you always gotta be prepared. And pay attention to the details. The devil is in the details.

Life, it is not simple like a garden, where flowers are always flowers and weeds are always weeds.

My arms were covered in scratches and had bled a little so I licked my finger and cleaned them off and thought God would have done a better job if he made blood taste like Three Musketeers bars.

--I wouldn't throw that cat out of bed. --When did you get a cat?

Ethel Jackson was the cool side of my pillow when I had a fever.

Let bygones be bygones because everybody knew that forgiveness was divine.

If we could find Sara's body, we'd probably get a reward and our pictures in the newspaper like Mary Lane did when she called in that fire she set.

Eddie's ma, that would be Mrs. Callahan, her husband got killed last winter over at the Feelin' Good Cookie Factory. They had an open casket at the funeral so you could see dead Mr. Callahan, who hadn't looked that great in life and looked even worse in death. Especially after that cookie press got to him. But Mr. Becker from Becker Funeral Homes had done a nice job fluffing Mr. Callahan's face back out again so he ended up looking like one of those waxy mannequins that you pay a dime to see up at the Wisconsin state Fair.

When I was sure she was asleep, I got up and went into Mother's room and pulled her yellow nightie out from the bottom drawer of her dresser, and then I got Daddy's Timex from the dressing table and put it on my wrist. After I said my prayers and told Daddy I was sorry like I did every night, I laid down at the foot of Mother's bed and drifted off to the sound of rain that was strong enough to be good for the crops, and tried and tried to remember the last time I felt safe.

Clearly, Nell was going crazy. (Well, she certainly had the hair for it.)

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer... If one of those bottles should happen to fall, there'd be how many bottles of beer on the wall?

And as I watched the car pull away toward the cemetery, the little white funeral flag waving good-bye, I felt blessed to be breathing, to have my heart beating.