We do an epically bad job of acknowledging one another's work and checking our sources.

Life works best when we think of people as people.

The sun was a toddler insistently refusing to go to bed: It was past eight thirty and still light.

he is both the source of my happiness and the one i want to share it with. i have to believe that’s a sign.

We had to forgive to survive the labyrinth

That’s part of what I like about the book in some ways. It portrays death truthfully. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence

Life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future.