The library was one enormous room, with long, high metal shelves and the perfect quiet that libraries provide for anyone looking for an answer.

But just suddenly I really, really needed to see you again right that minute, that night.

I am so tired, I can hardly type these worfs.

For Beatrice, summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder.

I don’t smoke, although it looks fantastic in films. But I light matches on those thinking blank nights when I crawl my route out onto the roof of the garage and the sky while my parents sleep innocent and the lonely cars move sparse on the faraway streets, when the pillow won’t stay cool and the blankets bother my body no matter how I move or lie still. I just sit with my legs dangling and light matches and watch them flicker away.

All his life, Klaus had believed that if you read enough books, you could solve any problem, but now he wasn't so sure.

I was stupid, the official descriptive phrase for happy.