My thoughts are starts I can't fathom into constellations.

You know, like when you look in the mirror and the thing you see is not the thing as it really is.

You can't just make yourself matter and then die, Alaska, because now I am irretrievably different, and I'm sorry I let you go, yes, but you made the choice. You left me Perhapsless, stuck in your goddamned labyrinth. And now I don't even know if you chose the straight and fast way out, if you left me like this on purpose. And so I never knew you, did I? I can't remember, because I never knew.

I'm not saying it was your fault. I'm saying it wasn't nice.

As I recall, you promised to CALL when you finished the book, not text.

In the darkest days, the Lord puts the best people into your life." (p. 28)

He liked the idea of coffee quite a lot—a warm drink that gave you energy and had been for centuries associated with sophisticates and intellectuals. But coffee itself tasted to him like caffeinated stomach bile.