How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust--and also to make you feel so whole?

My heart is fluid and soaring. There's no longer any space between heartbeats.

Time jumps. It leaps. It pours away like water through fingers.

I feel a flash of grief so intense it almost makes me cry out: not for what I lost, but for the chances I missed.

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.

I've never really thought about it before, but it's a miracle how many kinds of light there are in the world, how many skies: the pale brightness of spring, when it feels like the hole world's blushing; the lush, bright boldness of a July noon; purple storm skies and a green queasiness just before lightning strikes and crazy multicolored sunsets that look like someone's acid trip.

An eye for an eye." "And the whole world goes blind," Coral puts in quietly.