This was what it meant to be human, to know that time moved and all things changed.

Love ambushed you, it lay in wait, dormant for days or years. It was the red thread, the peach stone, the kiss, the forgiveness. It came after you, it escaped you, it was invisible, it was everything.

Those you love will not drown or burn. They will fly away.' ...'Now we both have people we love who are like birds. They have flown far from anything in this world that can hurt them. They're flying away still.

In "Faithful," Ray Bradbury is discussed a lot. The characters read "The Illustrated Man."

That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.

The moon is always jealous of the heat of the day, just as the sun always longs for something dark and deep.

My grief was cold. It was nothing to share. It was nothing to speak about, nothing to feel.