When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible.

The only thing worse than being sad is for others to know you are sad.

We slept in the same bed. There was never a right time to say it. It was always unnecessary. The books in my father's shed were sighing. The sheets were rising and falling around me with Anna's breathing. I thought about waking her. but it was unnecessary. There would be other nights. And how can you say I love you to someone you love? I rolled onto my side and fell asleep next to her. Here is the point of everything I have been trying to tell you... It's always necessary. I love you.

Everyone performs bad actions... A bad person is someone who does not lament his bad actions.

What's so horrible about being dead forever, and not feeling anything, and not even dreaming? What's so great about feeling and dreaming?

What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through a little speaker. [...] I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time.

I shook my tambourine the whole time, because it helped me remember that even though I was going through different neighborhoods, I was still me.