Of course. That's what people do in a disordered world, a world of freedom and choice: they leave when they want. They disappear, they come back, they leave again. And you are left to pick up the pieces on your own.

Amazing how hope lives. Without air or water, with hardly anything at all to nurture it.

I’ve never really had a party before.” “Why did you have one now?” I say, just to keep him talking. He gives a half laugh. “I thought if I had a party, you would come.

Here's another thing to remember: hope keeps you alive. Even when you're dead, it's the only thing that keeps you alive.

I need to live my life in the light of their deaths. I need to live.

I know that the whole point—the only point—is to find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.

But if you do believe, then you already know all about magic.