Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.

I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.

Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other." Pg 225

I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.

And then I wonder, does my brother think of me this way? We entered this world together, one after the other, beats in a pulse. But I will be first to leave it. That's what I've been promised. When we were children, did he dare to imagine an empty space beside him where I then stood giggling, blowing soap bubbles through my fingers? When I die, will he be sorry that he loved me? Sorry that we were twins? Maybe he already is.

So how long do you think it’ll be?” he says. “Before the next hurricane comes along to take you home.” “Can I tell you my biggest fear?” I say. “Yes. Tell me.” “That it will be a very windless four years.

I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness.