25
" Words matter, in fact. They're not pointless, as you've suggested. If they were pointless, then they couldn't start revolutions and they wouldn't change history. If they were just words, we wouldn't write songs or listen to them. We wouldn't beg to be read to as kids. If they were just words, then stories wouldn't have been around since before we could write. We wouldn't have learned to write. If they were just words, people wouldn't fall in love because of them, feel bad because of them, ache because of them, and stop aching because of them." (p. 210) (Henry Jones) "
― Cath Crowley , Words in Deep Blue
38
" After about half an hour I give up, thinking he must have stumbled home, when I find him. I'm in the girls' toilets, washing my hands, and I hear drunken poetry being recited from the end stall.
I walk down to it, push open the door, and there he is, lying on the ground, his head between the wall and the bowl. "Do you mind? I'm having a private moment here, Rachel."
I crouch on the floor beside him. "Here's a tip for a private moment: don't have it on the floor of the girls' toilets."
"The girls?" he asks.
"The added extras didn't give it away?"
He lifts his head and squints at the unit in the opposite corner. "Not a mailbox?"
"Not a mailbox, Henry," I say as I try, unsuccessfully, to haul him into a standing position. "
― Cath Crowley , Words in Deep Blue