Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?

Chaos is more freedom; in fact, total freedom. But no meaning. I want to be free to act, and I also want my actions to mean something.

Home sweet home. No place like home. Take me home, country roads. Home is where the heart is. But my heart is here. So I must be home. Clare sighs, turns her head, and is quiet. Hi, honey. I'm home. I'm home.

I'm living under water. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there's a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense.

...all of our laments could not add a single second to her life, not one additional beat of the heart, nor a breath.

My apartment is basically a couch, an armchair, and about four thousand books.

There's always world enough and time.