"A man once revealed something which disturbed me too much to be discounted. He said, 'Your sister died because she became too American.'" Chapter 1, "Exile-Pilgrim," page 7.

"It seemed, then, that we could simply walk out of Vietnam and right into America, beautiful free America, somewhere at the end of this wondrous road." Chapter 8, "Last-Gamble," page 61.

"But for my parents' money, I could be any one of the thousands of cyclo drivers, vacant-eyed men wilting in cafes, hollow-cheeked merchants angling for a sale." Chapter 15, "Beggar-Grace," page 107.

"My Saigon was a whore, a saint, an infanticidal maniac. She sold her body to any taker, dreams of a better future, visions turned inward, eyes to the sky of the skyscrapers foreign to the land, away from the festering sores at her feet." Chapter 15, "Beggar-Grace," page 109.

"Who ever heard of a grown man 'doing' a sport? A solo sport and no...