Let me tell you something about dying: it's not as bad as they says. it's the coming-back-to-life part that hurts.

And in that moment, the wordless thing passed between us, the thing that wasn't quite love but was so close I could believe in it sometimes.

people do terrible things, sometimes, for the best reasons.

people themselves are full of tunnels: winding, dark spaces and caverns; impossible to know all the places inside of them. Impossible even to imagine.

Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge.

The tunnels may be long, and twisted, and dark; but you are supposed to go through them.

I’ve always hated being looked at.