When I am writing anything in general, I just want to tell the story that exists in my head; I don't try to write a parable or make a point.

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.

Someday I'll tell you all of it," I say. "I'd like that," he says. "No," I say. "I promise you won't.

Lovers are weapons, but love is a wound.

Give me time" "For you, always.

Fate, I think, is a thief.

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.