There was nothing, nothing to depend on. And why was I surprised?

The bottom line is, what defines you isn't how many times you crash, but the number of times you get back on the bike. As long as it's one more. you're all good.

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

What do you do when you finally hear everything you've always thought said aloud?

We all have one idea of what the color blue is, but pressed to describe it specifically, there are so many ways: the ocean, lapis lazuli, the sky, someone's eyes. Our definitions are as different as we are ourselves.

That was the nice thing about the Spot: you could hear everything, but no one could see you.

If you didn't always have to choose between turning away for good or rushing in deeper. In the moments that it really counts, maybe it's enough - more than enough, even - just to be there.