The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before.

Does he have ugly hands? Sometimes beautiful people have ugly hands." "No he has kind of amazing hands.

My love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity, ~ Hazel Lancaster.

I love being in cities with lots of other people, because I'm reminded that there are billions of people like me, and we are each stuck inside of our minds, feverishly trying to crawl out to make connections with other people.

Because there is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honor in dying of.

Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.

Nothing to be gained by worrying between now and then.