The guy's life drunk, I think, makes Candide look like a sourpuss. Does he even know that death exists?
Jandy NelsonI wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.
Jandy NelsonI'm layering away: sauce, noodles, I belong to you, cheese, sauce, my heart is yours, noodles, cheese, I hear your soul in your music, cheese, cheese, CHEESE.
Jandy NelsonThis 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.
Jandy Nelson