I hate skin; I hate bones and bodies. I want to curl up inside of him and be carried there forever.

His secret name, which belongs to me, and to him, and to no one else.

I loved to be alone in the woods, especially in the late fall when everything is crisp and golden, the leaves the color of fire, and it smells like things turning into earth. I loved the silence - the only sound the steady drum of the hooves and the horse's breathing.

As Steve draws me closer to the band, all I can see is a frenzied mass of seething, writhing people, like a many-headed sea snake, grinding, waving their arms, stamping their feet, jumping. No rules, just energy - so much energy, you could harness it; I bet you could power Portland for a decade. It is more than a wave. It's a tide, an ocean of bodies.

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

Most people don't want to be saved. Besides, if you keep bailing everybody out, they'll never learn to paddle on their own.

There is so much fragility in kissing, in other people: It is all glass.