Sometimes things aren't what they seem and even a Seer can't see what's commin'.

There was no one color that could paint Lena Duchannes. She was a red sweater and a blue sky, a gray wind and a silver sparrow, a black curl escaping from behind her ear.

Maybe there isn't a meaning to life. Maybe there's only a meaning to living.

I believe the term you’re searching for is smoking jacket. I find, now that I have whole days of sunshine ahead of me, I’ve discovered there is more to life than formal haberdashery.

Why would you stick someone you love down in a lonely hole in the dirt? Where it's cold, and dirty, and full of bugs?

the missing piece my breath my heart my memory me the other half the missing half

In the wake of my talk with Earl, we had come to a mutual understanding about Lena, the only kind guys ever come to. Meaning, I hadn’t brought it up, and they hadn’t brought it up, and between us, we somehow all agreed to go on like this indefinitely. Don’t ask, don’t tell.