The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.

Aquamarines grew with emeralds, Claire told me. But emeralds were fragile and always broke into smaller pieces, while aquamarines were stronger, grew in huge crystals without any trouble, so they weren't worth as much. It was the emerald that didn't break that was the really valuable thing.

I'm a fish swimming by...catch me if you want me.

Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your mind. In life, knowledge of poisons is essential. I've told you, nobody becomes an artist unless they have to.

I imagined Kandinsky's mind, spread out all over the world, and then gathered together. Everyone having only a piece of the puzzle. Only in a show like this could you see the complete picture, stack the pieces up, hold them to the light, see how it all fit together. It made me hopeful, like someday my life would make sense too, if I could just hold all the pieces together at the same time.

Don't hoard the past. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.