The longer I do my job the more I realize that humans lack good mirrors. It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, and so hard for us to show anyone how we feel.

That deep, can-still-taste-her-in-my-mouth sleep.

humans lack good mirrors. It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, and so hard for us to show anyone how we feel

feeling - probably for the first time in my life - the fear and excitement of living in a place where you never know what's going to happen or when.

The important thing is not whatever nonsense the voices are saying, but what the voices are feeling.

And he was feeling not-unique in the very best possible way.

Colin's skin was alive with the feeling of connection to everyone in that car and everyone not in it. And he was feeling not-unique in the very best possible way.

So it’s your death suit.” “Correct. Don’t you have a death outfit?” “Yeah,” I said. “It’s a dress I bought for my fifteenth birthday party. But I don’t wear it on dates.” His eyes lit up. “We’re on a date?” he asked. I looked down, feeling bashful. “Don’t push it.

I have spent my life falling. Not the kind that Tiny's talking about. He's talking about love. I'm talking about life. In my kind of falling, there's no landing. There's only hitting the ground. Hard. Dead, or wanting to be dead. So the whole time you're falling, it's the worst feeling in the world. Because you feel you have no control over it. Because you know how it ends.