You might say that death has relaxed me.

We will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.

It's rare that I read more than two or three books by any one author, usually only one.

In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine.

In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.

It's a strange feeling, being so utterly surrounded by her. Her life scent is on everything. She's on me and under me and next to me. It's as if the entire room is made out of her.

... we shoved out many hopes and fears into their hands, believing those hands were strong because they had firm handshakes. They failed us, always. There was no way they could not fail us - they were human, and so were we.