You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you...

My ashtray is full, the carton of cigarettes is empty, and I just cremated grandpa. But I never inhaled—or told him I loved him.

You do know what I mean about Mom. It's like she radios into headquarters for Dad's feelings when she senses hers need backup.

Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" Pointing to his disciples, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers... (Matthew 12:48)

I watched, hoping she wouldn't come out too broke. It's all you can do for people sometimes, no matter how much you love them.

She smiled and feigned enthusiasm, although she cared little for the game. Sometimes that's what you did for the people you loved.

...there was alienation in the standing consciousness that his squareness would not fit the round hole that had been prepared for him.

My own family were far from perfect, yet I thanked the Lord that I had them, even if they did sometimes make me want to kill them all.

Is this what family is like: the feeling that everyone’s connected, that with one piece missing, the whole thing’s broken?

You want to know what I want? I'm sick of being a guinea pig. I'm sick, but I'm never f*cking sick enough for this family.

But he didn't seem to need her to finish her sentence as he said, “I know. When you kiss me, it's like that for me, too.

You can’t help who your parents are or aren’t. My parents aren’t—they don’t exist and have never existed.

Well, you ought to stick with it, even after you mess up-but sticking with it is a lot easier if you have a family who believes in you.

The day my dad left my mom and I was the second saddest day of my life. The saddest day was the next day, when he returned home.


Maybe that's what living in America does to you: it spreads you into far distances until you're just little bits rolling apart.