There is no easy off button for your brain.It would be really really nice if there were.

You know, life fractures us all into little pieces. It harms us, but it's how we glue those fractures back together that make us stronger.

Astley comes to my side. 'Are you well?' 'No,' I tell him, voice hoarse. 'I am not well. I am broken inside. I am broken almost all-the-way deep, and I don't know...I don't know if I can ever be unbroken, let alone well again'

Sometimes that whys aren't knowable, so you just have to ignore the whys, and just focus on what is and move on.

It is love which made all this. War which protects it. With love comes responsibility and possibility, fear and hopes, quests and suffering.

There is something about libraries, old libraries, that makes them seem almost sacred. There's a smell of paper and must and binding stuff. It's like all the books are fighting against decay, against turning into dust, and at the same time fighting for attention.

He has an armload of irises and daisies and tulips and he presents them to me. I didn't know what kind of flowers you like.I like them all.Yeah?Yeah.He tries to hand them to me, but then remembers the cast. I'll put them in water.Betty swoops in the room ridiculously fast and she grabs the flowers out of Nick's hands. I'll take care of them. You lovebirds just sit on the couch and think swooning things at each other.