In another time, in another place, I wonder who they might have been.

Her mind is a bird that's trapped inside her skull, flapping and thrashing, never breaking free.

Set fire to the broken pieces; start anew.

He kissed back, all the pages spread out around us like riddles waiting to be solved. Let them wait. Let my genes unravel, my hinges come loose. If my fate rests in the hands of a madman, let death come and bring its worse. I'll take the ruined craters of laboratories, the dead trees, this city with ashes in the oxygen, if it means freedom. I'd sooner die here than live a hundred years with wires in my veins.

Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.

Real’ is a dirty word in this place.

He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.