"I did not yet have the interior resources to dream new dreams, I was far too busy mourning the death of the old ones and wondering how I was going to survive without them." (Page 24)

"It is an art form to hate New York City properly. So far I have always been a featherweight debunker of New York; it takes too much energy and endurance to record the infinite number of ways the city offends me." (Page 32)

"We've pretended too much in our family, Luke, and hidden far too much. I think we're all going to pay a high price for our inability to face the truth." (Page 51)

"My family hates everyone. It's nothing personal." (Page 59)

"The priest knelt beside my father and they prayed together, priest and warrior transfigured by moonlight, by warfare, destiny, and the urgent, mysterious, and ineffable cries and secrets of souls turned inward...