...It was nice to spend time with someone so interesting.

We're invisible. I've never been here with someone else. It's different being invisible with someone.

I think maybe I know why,' she finally said. 'Why?' 'Maybe all the strings inside him broke,' she said.

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

And I will forget her, yes. That which came together will fall apart slowly, but she will forgive my forgetting, just as I forgive her for forgetting me and the Colonel and nothing but herself and her mom in those last moments as she spent as a person.

Harry Potter isn’t real? Oh no! Wait, wait, what do you mean by real? Is this video blog real? Am I real if you can see me and hear me, but only through the internet? Are you real if I can read your comment but I don’t know who you are or what your name is or where you’re from or what you look like or how old you are? I know all of those things about Harry Potter. Maybe Harry Potter’s real and you’re not.

My responsibility is to try to tell true stories. To me a true story is always hopeful, but never simply, uncomplicatedly happy.