I would always be lonely, but no more alone.

I want my life to be mystifying," she declared, although she didn't know what she meant.

How does one craft happiness out of something as important, as complicated, as unrepeatable and as easily damaged as life?

Words on the page are never prisoners of the page

It is scary, sometimes, Tomas admitted. But the scary bits are what make you brave.

Strange how love coexists with hate, how they render eachother mute, how the swilling of them together makes a new and softer, sympathetic thing.

Every atom in me feels composed of lead. This is what dying is: a pull to the ground.