I didn't want to talk about what happened, so it seemed safest not to talk at all.

Everyone has their weak spot. The one thing that, despite your best efforts, will always bring you to your knees, regardless of how strong you are otherwise.

Maybe that's what you got when you stood over your grief, facing it finally. A sense of its depths, its area, the distance across, and the way over or around it, whichever you chose in the end.

Teenagers are a great audience and they are fearless about asking what they want to know.

It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is.

The language of solace, and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.

Nothing happens for ages, and then all the changes come at once.