I'm at a loss because I am in love with a man who is standing before me with no memories of me at all. (Time Traveler's Wife)

In the dim light of the computer screen he seemed otherworldly; Julia thought him beautiful, though she knew it was the beauty of damage.

He thanked her and left the house in the mood of a shipwrecked man who has allowed the rescue ship to pass him by.

We are walking down the street holding hands. There is a playground at the end of the block, and I run to the swings and I climb on and Henry takes the one next to me facing the opposite direction. And we swing higher and higher passing each other, sometimes in synch and sometimes streaming past each other so fast that it seems we are going to collide. And we laugh and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost or dead or far away. Right now we are here and nothing can mar our perfection or steal the joy of this perfect moment.

one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.

The compelling thing about making art - or making anything, I suppose - is the moment when the vaporous, insubstantial idea becomes a solid there, a thing, a substance in a world of substances.

I look at him, look at the book, remember, this book, this moment, the first book I ever loved