There is a sad disconnectedness that overcomes a library when its owner is gone.

It's a bizarre but wonderful feeling, to arrive dead center of a target you didn't even know you were aiming for.

I'm sorry. I can love you. I can grieve for you, or with you. I can share your pain. But I cannot judge you.

The good face pain. But the great? They embrace it.

When the time comes to leap in faith whether you have your eyes open or closed or scream all the way down or not makes no practical difference.

Honesty is the only way with anyone, when you'll be so close as to be living inside each other's skins.

Miles is... Miles; close to a force of nature, climbing up out of his own pages and escaping subordination to any opinion of mine.