Fluffy’s stories had stayed fresh because she had kept them to herself. Fluffy still knew what she knew.

The air in the apartment was heavy with the mentholated smell of suffering.

Habit is a funny thing. You might think you understand it, but you can never exactly see what it looks like when you’re doing it.

“Men leave their children all the time and the world celebrates them for it. The Buddha left and Odysseus left and no one gave a shit about their sons. They set out on their noble journeys to do whatever the hell they wanted to do and thousands of years later we’re still singing about it.

“The biggest lie in business is that it takes money to make money. Remember that. You’ve got to be smart, have a plan, pay attention to what’s going on around you. None of that costs a dime.”

Neither of the children had sunburns. Celeste had been careful with them and not herself.

Norma said that childhood wasn’t something she could imagine inflicting on another person, especially not a person she loved.

I knew how to stand by and watch her take care of herself, but that was not the same thing as taking care of her.

Listen, there’s no sense wondering about your mother. Everybody’s got a burden in life and this is yours. She’s gone. You have to live with that.”