And Clare, always Clare.

He looks sad. Or maybe that's just how he looks when he isn't doing something else with his face.

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)

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.

I hate to be where she is not, when she is not. And yet, I am always going. - Henry deTamble

Time passes and the pain begins to roll in and out as though it’s a woman standing at an ironing board, passing the iron back and forth, back and forth across a white tablecloth.

That's what alcoholics do. It's in their job description: fall apart and then keep falling apart.