She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?

It’s like losing gravity and falling into space – the moment of pitching headlong when the endlessness of space asserts itself and there is no more down, only an eternity of up, and you realize you can fall forever and never run out of stars.

There are other ways of showing someone you love them, such as fetching them out of Hell.

And just so you know, the invaders are always the bad guys. Always.

We only get to be one person; we don't even get to choose that person. By the time we get ahold of ourselves, we are pieces already in play.

She had fallen in love with him twice. She loved him now with both loves, so overpowering it was almost unbearable.