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“You put your head under the pillow and pray. You hope that somehow doing that, everything will mend itself back together and you would not have to die. You pray for some kind of sorcery to occur which would wash away this day from your life. Hope is your best friend. Its embrace is all you yearn for at times like these. It is your only lullaby. Slowly but surely, its music slows your heart down. And that’s when all the tears are enough for you to fall asleep on.”

“You put yourself in a tight corner of failure if you think "it's only the rich that get richer while the poor get poorer". No! Something good can come out from you no matter who you are, what you have done and where you have been to!”

“You put yourself out there in the truest way you can and hope others do the same. You'll connect or you won't, but you did what you could. It's like playing ball in some way. There are guys on the team, like Cody, I'd give my life for. But you have to be willing to lay down your life for all of them if you want to put the best you on the field. Every guy on that field has to believe you'll bring nothing back off the field with you.”

“You quickly simmer the hamaguri clams in sake, mirin, and soy sauce, then serve them on the rice. At Fusa Sushi, the resulting leftover liquid was boiled down and used as a glaze for the conger eel and hamaguri clam sushi. But because Kazusa-meshi was so popular, there was still plenty of the stuff left over. Rather than waste it, the owner started taking it over to his brother next door--- who put it in his ten-don sauce. The owner of Fusa Sushi kindly told me the recipe." "So that sauce I just ate was flavored with... hamaguri clams?" asked Keiko, gazing steadily at the photo. "That's right. Now, the soup at Tenfusa was hamaguri broth. I made the fish ball the way he told me too, using a mix of hamaguri and white-fleshed fish. That's right--- the first time you visited, I happened to be serving a sake-simmered hamaguri stock for the soup. Of course, in that soup, the fish balls were made from sardines--- which your hometown of Ishinomaki is famous for. That, combined with the clam-flavored broth, explains why you found the flavor so nostalgic. You've quite the discerning palate, clearly!”

“You quit? I thought you said it was too dangerous to quit, Alex. You said people who try to get out die." "I almost did. If it weren't for Gary Frankel, I probably wouldn't have made it. . . ." "Gary Frankel?" The nicest, geekiest guy in school? For the first time I scan Alex's face and see a faint, new scar above his eye and nasty ones by his ear and neck. "Oh, God! W-what did they d-do to you?" He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His eyes are intense and dark, like they were the first time I noticed him in the parking lot that first day of school senior year. "It took me a long time to realize I needed to fix everything The choices I made. The gang. Bein' beaten to within an inch of my life and branded like cattle was nothin' compared to losin' you. If I could take back every word I said in the hospital, I would. I thought if I pushed you away, I'd be protectin' you from what happened to Paco and my dad." He looks up and his eyes pierce mine. "I'll never push you away again, Brittany. Ever. I swear." Beaten? Branded? I'm feeling sick to my stomach and tears sting my eyes. "Shh." He puts his arms around me, rubbing his hands across my back. "It's all right. I'm okay," he chants over and over again, his voice catching.”

“You raise them half-decent, and they grow up and leave. They move to Miami or California-- someplace with gourmet groceries and nude beaches because you've reared them to cook good and be liberal minded. It's just the opposite with your failures-- them kids stick to your tail like a cocklebur. You'd think it would be the other way around, but it's not. No matter how old I get, this will always amaze me.”

“You ran,' I snarl, wishing I could lunge forward and beat the shit out of him, but forcing my feet to stay planted where they are. 'That day in the field, you fucking ran when it was three on one, and we both know when it comes down to it, you'll run again. That's what cowards do.' Jack flushes, his eyes nearly bugging out of his face. 'Oh, for fuck's sake, Violet,' Dain mutters. 'She's not wrong,' Xaden drawls.”