Every single answer starts with the phrase 'I don't know.' But most of the time she does know, if I give her the time and the space in which to answer.

He doesn’t just look upset—he looks newly blind. There is such loss in his eyes, and it permeates every other part of his body.

I cannot think of a single word to describe what we feel. I think we all feel it, to varying degrees. Perhaps in some other language there is a word for 'the world is terribly wrong.' That feeling of stun and unbelief and abandonment and shock and horror and distress.

Every time you love someone, you put not just your faith in them, but your faith in everything to the test.

Sometimes the space between knowing what to do and actually doing it is a very short walk. Other times it is an impossible expanse.

The mistake is thinking that there can be an antidote to the uncertainty.

Magic naturally fades over distance. But proximity - well, when it works, proximity amplifies magic.