How wonderful a thing it is, to understand someone else without even trying to.

It was important to dream. Dreaming tells us who we are and scrubs away the bad days.

She was so sick of all the Latin. The Latin was creepy. It was a language of the dead.

But at the time I feared he had sensed my love and had run as fast as he could in the other direction... Every time I thought about it, my throat clenched up and my stomach flipped over, and I wished the world would swallow me up so I wouldn’t have to feel that way ever again.

Zoey aimed for wry nonchalance, to cover up how obviously chalant she was. Was that a thing?

Dread,” he murmured, his breath caressing her cheek, “is only a feeling, easily squashed. But wolves, my dear, have teeth.

Papa one told me that, when I lay dying – because someday I will, we will we all – I must not think of the things that frighten me, and I must not think of my pain. I must think of everyone and everything I have ever loved, for if I do that, those thoughts will follow me into death, and that far black place will turn bright and golden, as the world long ago used to be.

I’ve looked at you so many times that I see you when I close my eyes. I can’t shake you.

He was the steady voice in her mind that spoke to her when she didn’t feel steady at all.

The mind is fragile, and time is pitiless.