He says one word, nodding into the daylight. "Look." It's an astounding word. It's a gift.

You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.

There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free, escaped. And if she were here now, she would say, "Go.

Fate,' I said, 'Is a theif.

Maybe what frightens us about the edge isn't our fear of morality, but the thoughts it leads us to have.

No matter how lonely it makes me, and no matter how wide and horrific the loneliness, at least I remember who I am.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.