She cannot chain my soul. Yes, she could hurt me. She'd already done so...I would bleed, or not. Scar, or not. Live, or not. But she could not hurt my soul, not unless I gave it to her.

A little kid asks my dad why that man is chopping down the tree.Dad: He's not chopping it down. He's saving it. Those branches were long dead from disease. All plants are like that. By cutting off the damage you make it possible for the tree to grow again. You watch - by the end of summer, this tree will be the strongest on the block.

Why are you being so mean?""Friends tell friends the truth.""yeah, but not to hurt, to help.

It was hard to know how to play the game when the rules kept changing.

It doesn't matter where I go, I don't want to be there. And then I get to the next place, and I don't want to be there either.

Guidance Counselor: [leaning forward, looking at Mom and Dad] “Do the two of you have marriage issues?” Mother responds with unladylike language. Father suggests that the guidance counselor visit that hot, scary underground world. The guidance counselor grows quiet. Maybe she understands why I keep it zipped.

My only choice was to fight my way out, even if I didn't think I would make it.

Fracture lines etch the surface of the glass box as if a body fell from the sky and landed on it. He doesn't hear the impact, can't smell the blood.

Gracie's father was an engineer, her mother an accountant. I couldn't picture either one of them yelling or throwing things or having affairs. I could see my dad doing stuff like that. Trish sure did. But Dad carried a war in his skull, and Trish was a drunk. Gracie's parents didn't have anything like that to deal with, but their daughter was falling apart on the bathroom floor.