Everything in me feels fluttering and free, like I could take off from the ground at any second. Music, I think, he makes me feel like music.

I've been so used to thinking of what the borders are keeping out that I haven't considered that they're also penning us in.

This was what being cured was like: like being in a fishbowl, circling always inside the same glass.

Like I've been sketched by an amateur artist: if you don't look too closely, it's all right, but start focusing and all the smudges and mistakes become really obvious.

For the first time in a long time, I actually look at her. I've always thought Lena was pretty, but now it occurs to me that at some point - last summer? last year? - she became beautiful.

The flip side of freedom is this: When you're completely free, you're also completely on your own.

Mama, Mama, put me to bed I won’t make it home, I’m already half-dead I met an Invalid, and fell for his art He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart.