Forward momentum. That's my new motto. No regrets. And no going back.

Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.

It was selfish what I asked her to do, even if it wound up being the most unselfish thing I've ever done.

For the hundredth time tonight, I’m back with Lulu, on Jacques’s barge, the improbably named Viola. She’d just toldme the story of double happiness and we were arguing over the meaning. She’d thought it meant the luck of the boy getting the job and the girl. But I’d disagreed. It was the couplet fitting together, the two halves finding each other. It was love. But maybe we were both wrong, and both right. It’s not either or, not luck or love. Not fate or will. Maybe for double happiness, you need both.

In the calculus of feelings, you never really know how one person's absence will affect you more than another's.

First you inspect me Then you dissect me Then you reject me I wait for the day That you'll resurrect me "Animate

Then the musical instruments appeared. Dad’s snare drum from the house, Henry’s guitar from his car, Adam’s spare guitar from my room. Everyone was jamming together, singing songs: Dad’s songs, Adam’s songs, old Clash songs, old Wipers songs. Teddy was dancing around, the blond of his hair reflecting the golden flames. I remember watching it all and getting that tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.