How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
Mama had her little cough. Once or twice, some quiet sobbing, out of sight […] or the slamming of kitchen cupboard doors. That was her language. (1.18-22)
David's mom may feel sadness, but it comes out as anger. Her coughing and slamming are passive-aggressive ways of telling her family she's unhappy.
Quote #2
Dad, home from work, went down to the basement and thumped a punching bag. That was his language. (1.27)
David's dad and his brother, Ted, both express their dissatisfaction by beating things—a punching bag and a drum set, respectively. David just beats up on himself.
Quote #3
And I, too, had learned a way of expressing myself wordlessly […] Getting sick. That was my language. (1.30; 1.37)
Is David getting sick on purpose, or pretending to be sicker than he is, just to have his mom pay attention to him? After all, it's only when he's sick that he receives any comfort.
Quote #4
Great-Grandfather Murphy tried to kill himself by drinking Drano. Although he lived, he never spoke another word. The poison had eaten away his vocal cords. (1.246)
The scientific ignorance that causes David to lose his right vocal cord is its own kind of poison.
Quote #5
"Ack?" (3.98)
The first time David tries to speak after the vocal cord surgery, this is all he can say. The background in this image is entirely black, with only David's head and shoulders against the operating table. When he went to sleep, he was surrounded by doctors and nurses whom he was able to speak to—but when he wakes up, his environment is as blank as his throat.
Quote #6
Your vocal cords make the sounds of your voice. Your curses and your prayers. (3.102)
In other words, your voice makes you who you are. David's voice has been taken away with no explanation, and he can no longer curse or pray—at least, not out loud.
Quote #7
The fact that you now have no voice will define you from here on in. Like your fingerprints, the color of your eyes, your name. (3.107)
In one of the panels in which his parents drive him home from the hospital after surgery, David realizes that the absence of a voice can define you as much as the sound of one.
Quote #8
[…] When you have no voice, you don't exist. (3.206)
David still exists, of course, but without the ability to share his thoughts, feelings, and ideas with other people, he feels like he might as well be invisible. He learns that if people can't hear you, they'll move on without you.
Quote #9
After life in a house where silence reigned and free speech was forbidden, that office, three times a week, became a haven for me. There, things began to make sense… (4.73)
David's therapist—that's Dr. White Rabbit to you—wins his trust by saying the things his parents can't say. He praises David's drawings; he asks if David's getting enough to eat. He does for the teenager what David's parents should have done when he was a small child.
Quote #10
"There's something I need to tell you, and I couldn't do it in there." (4.124)
The night David's dad admits to giving him cancer, he takes David out for dinner so they can have a talk. They sit in the restaurant in silence, and as they leave, David's dad blames the environment for his inability to talk to his son. Yeah… that's it.