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256 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 2016
'My real feelings: travel, leaving, is a kind of betrayal. What about the people you leave behind? You go off and they miss you, or you go and they’re left to lead their boring lives and guess at what things you’re experiencing that they cannot, and worry about how you’re going to be crushed by an elephant or muskox, or how you’re going to go off and never come back or that you’ll replace the people who love you with others you could grow to love.'
'…it’s why he used to bring us to the cemetery - because he was born and raised into a culture where people pay their respects that way. There’s something really nice about that way of doing it. Even though we’ve never done it, I like the idea of the ritual. You go out of your way to the cemetery, find their grave, and sit by it, and the whole time you’re doing that, you’re probably thinking about the person who died. Love becomes duty, and as long as you keep going, you’ll keep remembering.
[…] There’s no way to know, but I need to think there’s something or at least be unsure about what happens, because the thought that there is nothing at the end of this - that some of the people I love most in the world are just gone, just like that, even though they were so alive and full and real when they were here, and that all this bad shit happened to us for absolutely no reason - is the saddest, most unbearable thought there is for me, even worse than all the bad shit that really did happen.'
‘We were quiet the whole way home, gliding down the highway in my dad’s Oldsmobile, edging away from the mountains, the trees, the bighorn sheep and deer on the sides of roads that cut through rocks, the little waterfalls you pass on your way to wherever you’re going, the natural sounds and peace, the beavers, otters, weasels, whatever, the birds and the green lake, the river that had taken Stef, all the beautiful things that continue on when you leave, that don’t care if you’re gone, back to your town in the middle of nowhere of auto body shops and farmers and fast food joints and convenience stores and drugs, only it’s not nowhere because you stop there, you live there, you belong there, so it’s somewhere. Close to the mountains, not close enough.’