You don’t know what it’s like to be alone until you’ve had someone inside your head.

But the world moves on, even when you don't want it to, even when change feels like the end of everything. It never stops.

Dying isn’t like living; it requires no effort at all.

My heart should be breaking, too, but there comes a point when you’re so inured to loss that you no longer feel the lash.

How can you miss someone who’s right beside you?

I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.

Did he die well?" No, I thought. Nobody did. They just died.