In one moment I was feeling everything and I was feeling nothing.

Sunday night, I reread The Catcher in the Rye until I felt tired enough to fall asleep. Only I never got tired enough. And I couldn't read, because reading didn't feel the same.

Knowing you don't have much time left changes things. You get kind of philosophical. And you figure things out-more like, they figure themselves out-and everything gets real clear.

Macon, wet from the raindrops for the first time.

She was wearing a purple T-shirt, with a skinny black dress over it that made you remember how much of a girl she was, and trashed black boots that made you forget.

You couldn't take two roads. And once you were on one, there was no going back.

A little-known fact about me: I read all the time.