But I always need to identify with a character to write about him or her - and by "identify," I mean see the world through that person's eyes and have a strong sense of the inner logic of their acts and decisions, wacky or wrongheaded though they might be. In that sense, I think there's some of me in all of them.

The world is full of shitheads, Rhea. Don’t listen to them—listen to me. And I know that Lou is one of those shitheads. But I listen.

...water laughing softly down a black stone wall.

They resumed walking. Alex felt an ache in his eyes and throat. "I don't know what happened to me," he said, shaking his head. "I honestly don't." Bennie glanced at him, a middle-aged man with chaotic silver hair and thoughtful eyes. "You grew up, Alex," he said, "just like the rest of us.

I can't tell if she's actually real, or if she's stopped caring if she's real or not. Or is not caring what makes a person real?

Oh we'll know each other forever, Bix says. The days of losing touch are almost gone.

Everyone we've lost, we'll find. Or they'll find us.