bent like the branches of a tree broken like the pieces of my heart cracked like the seventeenth moon shattered like the glass in the window the day we met

I needed to touch her, like I needed to breathe.

There are lots of things we choose not to see. Doesn't mean they aren't there, even if we wish they weren't.

There were two kinds of people in our town. The stupid, and the stuck.

The lonely reality of the truth-that the most important person in your life suddenly ceased to exist. Which on a bad day meant maybe she had never existed at all. And on a good day, there was the other fear. That even if you were a hundred percent sure she had been there, maybe you were the only one who cared or remembered.

I'm just the librarian. I can only give you the books. I can't give you the answers.

Power is neither good nor evil.