More than anything, I felt the unfairness of it, the inarguable injustice of loving someone who might have loved you back but can't due to deadness, and then I leaned forward, my forehead against the back of Takumi's headrest, and I cried, whimpering, and I didn't even feel sadness so much as pain.

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

Hurt tends to drown out sorry.

And yes, again, that was it exactly. A retyper and not a writer. A prodigy and not a genius.

That was part of her, and you used to know it. It's like now you only care about the Alaska you made up.

I fear your faith has been mis- placed—but then, faith usually is.

Because so many people use goodreads, it is an amazingly good—and amazingly underutilized—resource for understanding what people read, why, and how they feel about their reading experiences.