We are stronger than we've credited ourselves to be. We have been the victims and the witnesses. We have said a lifetime of good-byes.

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 best to let her go," he says. No, no, that's wrong. It's never right to give up on someone.

I don't dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I'm sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.

It is the face of a girl who has seen the world, who realizes that it hates her, and who hates it in return.

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

He gathers me up and I'm weightless before he sets me on the railing. He's the only thing keeping me from falling back, out of the reach of daylight. I'm not afraid of falling. I don't fear the sky beyond the train tracks like I did before. I can go anywhere just so long as it's with him.