I loved this woman the way you love ... well, nothing," he said, a note of suprise in his voice. "You can’t compare that kind of love to anything, can you? It’s its own unique gift.

She was afraid of all that and so much more, but what terrified her most was inside of her, an insect of unnatural intelligence who’d been living in her brain her entire life, playing with it, clicking across it, wrenching loose its cables on a whim.

Happiness comes in moments, & then it's gone until the next time. Could be years. But sadness settles it.

Choice, I've always believed, is all that separates us from animals.

The foundation of your life is luck. Hard work and talent make up the difference.

Waking, after all, was an almost natal state. You surfaced without history, then spent the blinks and yawns reassembling your past, shuffling the shards into chronological order before fortifying yourself for the present.

Grief, he said, is carnivorous.