When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word.

Because she was raw and uncertain, and she liked to keep all the messy parts of herself to herself. ... As much as Lena liked to hide the mess and display the finished product, by this point she was all mess and no product.

At the worst possible moment, the most painful, darkest moment when you can't take it anymore and you are afraid, that is when a feeling of peace and comfort will come over you, and it's like nothing you've ever felt.

He took her hand and they started walking toward the baggage claim. They didn't say anything to each other. They swung their held hands like little kids, like they believed anything could happen, like they might take off soaring into the air. All the things you wanted to happen could happen. Why not?

She went around with a broken heart, and she wasn't sure who'd broken it. She thought it was herself, mostly.

Age is not so much a feature of your character, as the spot where you stand for a pretty fleeting time on the arc of your life.

As a writer, you live in such isolation. It's hard to imagine your book has a life beyond you.