His eyes are the color of honey. These are the eyes I remember from my dreams.

Things change after you die, though, I guess because dying is the loneliest thing you can do.

Perfection is a promise, and a reassurance that we are not wrong.

Now I'd rather be infected with love for the tiniest sliver of a second than live a hundred years smothered by a lie.

And I guess that's when it starts to hit me: the whole point is, you do what you can.

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

Fred is officially the mayor of Portland now.