I don't think I could ever give up music. It's what makes me tick. If there was no music, there would be no writing.

I think that’s a mercy of this island, actually, that it won’t give us our terrible memories for long, but let us keep the good ones for as long as we want them.

Eventually, the Gray Man thought, if he resisted using it for long enough, he himself might forget his own name, and became someone else entirely.

They were always walking away from him. But he never seemed able to walk away from them.

There is a little narrowing to his eyes at the end of it that makes me understand that this is a test. Whether or not I'm brave enough to go into the stall with Corr after yesterday morning, after I've had time to think about what happened. The thought of it makes my pulse trip. The question is not if I trust Corr. The question is if I trust Sean.

Okay, outside," the clerk said. "Conversation outside. Bye! Have a nice night!

As I handed her the bag, the old scars on my wrist throbbed with buried memories.