Something invisible snapped inside her.

If I had a nervous breakdown every time something awful happened in the world, I'd be crazier than a shithouse rat.

Do you guys remember that time when we were all definitely going to die and then Ben grabbed the steering wheel and dodged a ginormous freaking cow and spun the car like the teacups at Disney World and we didn't die?

But ultimately I do not believe that she was only matter. The rest of her must be recycled, too. I believe now that we are greater than the sum of our parts. If you take Alaska's genetic code and you add her life experiences and the relationships she had with people, and then you take the size and shape of her body, you do not get her. There is something else entirely. There is a part of her greater than the sum of her knowable parts. And that part has to go somewhere, because it cannot be destroyed

. . . Endlessness is a really strange idea in a universe that is defined by its endings.

When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back.

He missed his imagined future.