How can the word love, the word life, even fit in the mouth?

I suddenly feel left out of a future that isn't even going to happen.

I didn't know love felt like this, like turning into brightness.

This is the secret I kept from you, Bails, from myself too: I think I liked that Mom was gone, that she could be anybody, anywhere, doing anything. I liked that she was our invention, a woman living on the last page of the story with only what we imagined spread out before her. I liked that she was ours, alone.

People die, I think, but your relationship with them doesn't. It continues and is ever-changing.

I've no use for talking, would just as soon store paper clips in my mouth.

He smiles and takes his index finger and presses it to my lips, leaves it there until my heart lands on Jupiter: three seconds, then removes it, and heads back into the living room. Whoa - well, that was either the dorkiest or sexiest moment of my life, and I'm voting for sexy on account of my standing here dumbstruck and giddy, wondering if he did kiss me after all.