Are those the only options? Nothing or forever?

So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story.

I find that the more I depend on real life, the less interesting the story is. It's much more common for me to take something that almost-happened, or I wish had happened, and then follow that possibility.

Nah," I said. "But if it does, just tell him I said to get back on the bike." "What?" "He'll understand.

There comes a point when things are undeniable and can't be hidden any longer. Even from yourself.

Your mother won a special reward," she told me, "because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.

Failing sucks. But it's better than the alternative." "Which is?" "Not even trying." Now he did look at me, straight on. "Life's short, you know?