“Where is the absurdity of the world? Is it this resplendent glow or the memory of its absence? With so much sun in my memory, how could I have wagered on nonsense? People around me are amazed; so am I, at times. I could tell them, as I tell myself, that it was in fact the sun that helped me, and that the very thickness of its light coagulates the universe and its forms into a dazzling darkness.”

“God, i love you, so, so much. It's beyond words for me too, honey. I'm so pissed at myself for not having the balls to tell you before. To think we could have had this...the whole time.”

“George was an atheist, and so am I. But how I long now for an afterlife - a world of light or of deep dazzling darkness, where he and the others we've lost reside, unscathed, forever accessible - to have tea with, to talk nonsense with, to reinvent the world with”

“When my husband died, people kept telling me not to cry. People kept trying to help me to forget. But I didn't want to forget... So I realize, that if it's hard for me, how much harder it must be for you.”

“For the first time I realized adults could back themselves into corners so remote that love, or its memory, could no longer reach them.”

“Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me, if I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me.”