He is my world and my world is him and without him there is no world.

I don't know whether these feelings - this thing growing inside of me - is something horrible and sick or the best thing that's ever happened to me. Either way, I can't stop it. I've lost control. And the truly sick thing is that despite everything, I'm glad.

Waste today, want tomorrow.

That’s what made it so frightening to the lawmakers: Love obeys no laws other than its own.

Grief is like sinking, like being buried. I am in water the tawny color of kicked-up dirt. Every breath is full of choking. There is nothing to hold on to, no sides, no way to claw myself up. There is nothing to do but let go. Let go. Feel the weight all around you, feel the squeezing of your lungs, the slow, low pressure. Let yourself go deeper. There is nothing but bottom. There is nothing but the taste of metal, and the echoes of old things, and days that look like darkness.

Time jumps. It leaps. It pours away like water through fingers.

And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.