“She closed her eyes. "I didn't know that. i didn't know anything. It scares me the things I told myself. But I would have told myself almost anything, because I wanted to believe him."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to be with you.”

“I didn't listen to her because she was my mother & wouldn't know anything until I was much older.”

“How I wish I didn't know anything about myself and this world!”

“I asked you what you wanted and you said you didn't want anything. And I told you I wasn't planning on giving you anything; I was planning on giving you something.”

“He was waiting for me to say something. He was staring at me. This, I think, is the first time I dared myself to stare back at him. Usually, I'd cast a glance and then look away—look away because I didn't want to swim in the lovely, clear pool of his eyes unless I'd been invited to—and I never waited long enough to know whether I was even wanted there; look away because I was too scared to stare anyone back; look away because I didn't want to give anything away; look away because I couldn't acknowledge how much he mattered. Look away because that steely gaze of his always reminded me of how tall he stood and how far below him ranked.”

“And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms.”

“I didn't want to see you."
"They told me."
"I was afraid that I'd still love you."
"I hoped that you would.”

“She started walking again. "Are you saying you didn't even want to be with her? Not even just a little?"
He stopped. "How could I want to be with her when I want to be with you? I told you that before this whole thing started.”

“I told her once I wasn’t good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.”

“I can hurt myself more than anyone else can," she told her sister. "I can do it with my eyes closed.”