What's love? Something that lasts a week or a month and that's all you can except? Or is it just that some loves have a short shelf life? You know, like yogurt: after a week or two they go bad. And how do you recognize the other kind of love, the kind that isn't like yogurt? The kind that's more like... I don't know, like peanut butter, that lasts forever and always tastes good?

Humans waste words. They toss them like banana peels and leave them to rot. Everyone knows the peels are the best part.

Earth is the crossroads of every possible alien. We're the McDonald's next to the highway of the galaxy.

Old age is a powerful disguise.

Pain is life. Life is pain.

And oh, god, how could so much regret and so much sweetness and so much sadness all be present in that single moment. I was already dead and missing my unlived life. I was already dead and Tobias was mourning. I tried to smile. For him.

Homework, I have discovered, involves a sharp pencil and thick books and long sighs.