She got under the covers and put her arms around the bag. She could smell Tibby. It used to be she couldn't smell Tibby's smell in the way you couldn't smell your own; it was too familiar. But tonight she could. This was some living part of Tibby still here and she held on to it. There was more of Tibby with her here and now than in what she had seen in the cold basement room that day.

He wanted to take his love back from her so badly. The old techniques didn’t work anymore. In fact, they’d never worked. How do you stop loving someone? It was one of the world’s more brutal mysteries. The more you tried, the less it worked.

I knew her hair and her coloring and her shapes would be different next time, but the way she wore her body would keep on.

she never showed girly weaknesses like cellulite or crushes. she never lingered on injustices committed against her.

And I thought about the color and I realized what blue it was. It was the soft and changeable, essential blue of a well-worn pair of pants. Pants = Love

She wondered if maybe tragedy was what it took to make your heart capable of admitting a new member.

I love her. I need her. I gave away everything I had for her. I just wanted her to know me.