I don't know how to be a friend. I don't know how to be anything.

Neither sleet nor rain nor a half inch of snow will compel me to dress like a lumberjack.

Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams. I've heard people talk about the sleep of the dead. Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that's what it's like, I wouldn't mind. If that's what dying is like, I wouldn't mind that at all.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

I know that all the magic kisses in the world probably couldn't have helped him today. But I would do anything to have been able to give him one.

I’ve since come to understand that the universe operates on the same general equilibrium theory as markets.It never gives you something without making you pay for it somehow.

Obey the muse, Liz said. She's a fickle mistress.