It's funny, isn't it? When you are young you just want to be old, and then later you wish you could go back to being a kid.

We’ll go.” Her voice is surprisingly deep and forceful. Set in her sunken, shipwreck face, her eyes burn like two smoldering coals. “We’ll fight.

Fridays are the hardest in some ways: you’re so close to freedom.

Everything looks stark and vivid and frozen, as though drawn precisely and outlined in ink - parents' smiles frozen, camera flashes blinding, mouths open and white teeth glinstening, dark glossy hair and deep blue sky and unrelenting light, everyone drowning in light - everything so clear and perfect I'm sure it must already be a memory, or a dream.

The priests and the scientists are right about one thing: At our heart, at our base, we are no better than animals.

You have to go forward: It's the only way. You have to go forward no matter what happens. This is the universal law.

A string of bright white buildinh, glistening like teeth over the slurping mouth of the ocean.