So we gave up. I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be seen. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.

The fundamental mistake I had always made - and that she had, in fairness, always led me to make - was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.

Like the way the sun is right now, with the long shadows, and that kind of bright, soft light you get when the sun isn't quite setting? That's the light that makes everything better, everything prettier, and today, everything just seemed to be in that light.

Scared isn't a good excuse. Scared is the excuse everyone has always used.

He missed her like crazycakes.

Jesus, I'm not going to be one of those people who sits around talking about what they're going to do. I'm just going to do it.

It is so hard to leave-until you leave.