“What remained would gradually acquire its own shape and dimension, but many of our favorite things, my favorite ways of being a couple, had vanished and it was no use pretending, hoping, wishing that he would return to his old self, and me to mine. [p. 156]”

“My favorite thing isn’t being the favorite to win—it’s being the underdog.”

“Let’s use our heads,” he said, giving Shame a hard look. Shame just grinned. “That’s my favorite thing to use.”

“He would not deceive himself so much. He would not – and this was the test – pretend to care about women when the only sex that attracted him was his own. He loved men and always had loved them. He longed to embrace them and mingle his being with theirs. Now that the man who returned his love had been lost, he admitted this.”

“I wish I was your favorite girl, I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world, I wish I was your favorite smile, I wish the way I dressed was your favorite kind of style”

“The sandwich he made was bologna and cheese, his favorite. All the sandwiches he made were his favorites; that was one of the advantages of being single.”