We all got holes in our lives. Nobody dies in a perfect garment.

I think she is confused by the way I want her, which is like nobody else. I know this deep down. I want her in a new way, a way she's never been told about.

What happens when you let an unsatisfactory present go on long enough? It becomes your entire history.

I am part of what she thinks is her illness, a symptom of which she thinks she has been cured. She, on the other hand, is what I was looking for.

Time was rushing around me like water around a big wet rock. The only difference is, I was not so durable as stones. Very quickly I would be smoothed away.

...whom he had saved from a life of excessive freedom

The world tips away when we look into our children's faces.