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

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

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.

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

In the distance I see a lighthouse. The light washes over us and continues on its rotation. This time, I don't know where the light will guide us.

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

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