He called out to his fellow monks,'Come quickly I am tasting stars.

And I put the latte down on a table, awash in the happy middle of my greatest adventure.

In my opinion, actual heroism, like actual love, is a messy, painful, vulnerable business—and I wanted to try to reflect that.

He liked the mere act of reading, the magic of turning scratches on a page into words inside his head.

He reached up t0 grab one and came down with several, and they kept coming, washing over him, floating all around him. Never have tampon strings seemed so beautiful as they rolled up and down with the wind, landing on the ground and then twirling and floating up again, falling and rising and falling and rising.

The human tongue is like wasabi: it's very powerful, and should be used sparingly.

And then the line was quite but not dead. I almost felt like he was there in my room with me, but in a way it was better, like I was not in my room and he was not in his, but instead we were together in some invisible and tenuous third space that could only be visited on the phone.