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

Dystopian novels help people process their fears about what the future might look like; further, they usually show that there is always hope, even in the bleakest future.

This is the first day of my new beginning. From now on I'm going to do things right. I'm going to be a different person, a good person. I'm going to be the kind of person who would be remembered well, not just remembered.

I've never really thought about it before, but it's a miracle how many kinds of light there are in the world, how many skies: the pale brightness of spring, when it feels like the hole world's blushing; the lush, bright boldness of a July noon; purple storm skies and a green queasiness just before lightning strikes and crazy multicolored sunsets that look like someone's acid trip.

The tunnels may be long, and twisted, and dark; but you are supposed to go through them.

It's as though the words are trapped, buried under past fears, past lives, like fossils compressed under layers of dirt.

Finishing books - and leaving the world you've created - is always a kind of emotionally wrenching experience. I usually cry.