“If, as I suspect, my body survives by uttering itself over and over again, then I have some questions. If [I] am one word, so are my daughters, so are all of us in strings and loops. Each life is one short word slowly uttered.”

“My mother is Turtle Mountain Chippewa, and she lived on her home reservation. My father taught there. He had just been discharged from the Air Force. He went to school on the GI Bill and got his teaching credentials. He is adventurous - he worked his way through Alaska at age seventeen and paid for his living expenses by winning at the poker table.”

“I got well by talking. Death could not get a word in edgewise, grew discouraged, and traveled on.”

“Here I am where I ought to be.”

“It was enough just to sit there without words.”

“I got well by talking. Death could not get a word in edgewise grew discouraged and traveled on.”

“I was in love with the whole world and all that lived in its rainy arms.”

“They were so strong in their beliefs that there came a time when it hardly mattered what exactly those beliefs were they all fused into a single stubbornness.”

“some people fall right through the hole in their lives. It's invisible, but they come to it after time, never knowing where.”

“I look down at my black Diablo, head on his paws. He is at my feet. He knows that he must trust to my forgiveness for his daily meat. So he wags his plumed tail and noses at my foot and I pat him gently. Affection, I tell him, is how a dog survives. Knowing how to exist without it is how a woman wrests her life into her own hands. But then it comes, it takes one by surprise. Affection and freedom and the will to risk. Everything that happened since I answered the door to Fleur was leading up to this.”

“I tried to get away from him, to get to that door, but instead I backed up against the wall and was stuck there in that white, white room.”