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"What was she like?" Anton asked. "Evie? It's a funny thing, you know. People die, you remember them as angels. It gets harder and harder to remember what was real. She wasn't an angel... I mean, look, I was dealing coke and she was handling the money. She wasn't necessarily good, you know, in any kind of absolute law-abiding non-drug-dealing sense of the word, but she was good to me. We were good to each other."
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun (Anton Waker and David)
"Why would anyone want to be a school bus driver?" Anton asked. His parents encouraged the assumption that he might grow up to be anything, and at nine things were possible that became less possible later on. It was still plausible that he might grow up to be an astronaut, for example, or the king of an as-yet-undiscovered country. "You just make decisions as you go along, my magnificent child," his mother said. "A or B, two options present themselves, and you choose the one that seems best at the time."
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun (Anton Waker and Miriam)
"Anton," she said, "sweetheart, I know it's questionable. But we work hard. I'm at peace. Your father's at peace. We sleep well at night. What are our options?"
"Normal jobs?"
"Normal jobs," she repeated. Her voice held an edge. "You've never worked a normal job, Anton. What do you imagine it might be like?"
"I don't know. Less questionable."
"Well, most things you have to do in life are at least a little questionable," she said.
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun (Miriam Waker and Anton Waker)
"Well, most things you have to do in life are at least a little questionable. "
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun (Anton Waker)
They were interesting. They came from everywhere. They were polite, as people on the margins of the world often are, and grateful for his services.
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun
It was corrupt. It was beautiful. My parents were the best parents anyone could hope for, and also they were dealers in stolen goods. I was often happy, but I always wanted something different.
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun
And it struck him instantly as the most obvious, possibly even the most important question you could ever ask anyone - How were you formed? What forged you? - but no one had ever asked him that before, and for a second he found himself flailing in the dark. It was corrupt. It was beautiful. My parents were the best parents anyone could hope for, and also they were dealers in stolen goods. I was often happy, but I always wanted something different.
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun
And it struck him instantly as the most obvious, possibly even the most important question you could ever ask anyone - How were you formed? What forged you? - but no one had ever asked him that before, and for a second he found himself flailing in the dark.
Emily St. John Mandel, The Singer's Gun
