Fate, I think, is a thief.

You can try to please everyone and risk accomplishing nothing, or go for your dreams and risk pissing a few people off.

We figure out what death means when we're born, practically, and we live our whole lives in some kind of weird denial about it.

It's the silence I imagine in the rest of the world, the silence of an endless ocean and uninhabitable island, a silence that can be seen from space.

I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.

I think she's brave. I think that nobody has ever believed what she could be capable of. All her life, nobody was listening.

Vaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky.