Books belong to their readers.

We left. We did not say: Don't drive, You're drunk. We did not say: We aren't letting you in that car when you are upset. We did not say: We insist on going with you. We did not say: This can wait until tomorrow. Anything-everything-can wait.

They were angry, I thought. Horrified. These teenagers, with their hormones, making out beneath a video broadcasting the shattered voice of a former father.

Lonley, Vaguely pedophilic swing set seeks the butts of children.

I've never known before what it feels like to want someone - not to want to hook up with them or whatever, but to want them, to want them. And now I do. So maybe I do believe in epiphanies.

She cannot possibly be dead, people do not just die

That feeling of finishedness does not come all at once, and it is not easily won, but I think once you get there it is hard to go back.