That's the van? It looks like a rotting banana." This was undeniable - Eric had painted the van a neon shade of yellow, and it was blotched with dings and rust like splotches of decay.

You're gorgeous," she said. Her hands slid around to flatten themselves against his chest. "You know that right?" "And I just don't care," she says "Isabelle, I don't think-Wait, What?

We are but dust and shadows.

He always lived in his head. He never cared about how things were, only how they would be, someday, when he had everything he wanted. When we had everything we wanted.

There are some kinds of wounds you can get, internal injuries. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside.

He put his arms about himself as if he were cold. "I do not know who to be without him.

For as is often the happenstance with that which is precious and lost, when you find him again, he may well not be quite as you left him.