His mind was a small thing with big holes through which passions regularly seeped out. — Zadie Smith

He talked and talked, the kind of talking you do to stave off the inevitable physical desire. The kind of talk that only increases it.

Because this is the other thing about immigrants: they cannot escape their history any more than you yourself can lose your shadow.

This is what divorce is: Taking things you no longer want from people you no longer love.