I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.

Sometimes we don't know how afraid we are until we've reached a strange door and we don't know what will be on the other side.

Fate, I think, is a thief.

Momentum,' She repeats. 'You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.

Living in a place like this, she must have learned how to see all the monsters that can hide a person.

Tell me about yourself." "Myself?" He looks confused. "Yes," I say, patting the mattress. "You know all there is to know," he says, sitting beside me. "Not true," I say. "Where were you born? What's your favourite season? Anything." "Here. Florida," he says. "I remember a woman in a red dress with curly brown hair. Maybe she was my mother, I'm not sure. And summer. What about you?" The last part is said with a smile. He smiles so infrequently that I consider each one a trophy.

He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.