But it is a pipe." "No, it's not," I said. It's a drawing of a pipe. Get it? All representations of a thing are inherently abstract. It's very clever.

Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.

She had the kind of fingers you want to interlace with your own.

It's total bullshit," he said. "The whole thing. Eighty percent survival rate and he's in the twenty percent? Bullshit. He was such a bright kid. It's bullshit. I hate it. But it was sure a privilege to love him, huh?

I hadn’t been in proper school in three years. My parents were my two best friends. My third best friend was an author who did not know I existed.

I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. Do you know what I mean? There is so much to lose.

All sorts of yayness floods my brain. Love is such a drug.