“If you kept your light inside of yourself too long, it might burn out altogether.”

“The surest way to hurt yourself is to give up on love, just because it didn’twork out the first time.”

“...You have to live inside each beautiful or terrible thing as it happens to you, because the present may be all you've got.”

“You take your flashlight out on your walks, right?” Simon asked.“Depends on the moonlight.”“From now on, take it with you every night. When you’re outwalking this way, you’ll pass the gazebo, where, chances are, I willbe smoking.”“Then what?”“You can signal—say, three times if you want to take a walk withme. Twice if you want to walk alone. that way I’ll just let you walkon. It’ll be like a military code. No one gets hurt.”I laughed. “that’s silly and charming.”“I try. I can signal back with my cigarette lighter too,” Simonsaid, holding up the lighter and firing off three short bursts offlame. “So, like, if I see you first and I happen to not wish to talk toyou, I can fire off two bursts and block you in your tracks.”

“But it was not the note that counted so much as the writing of it.Just because it wouldn’t last forever out there didn’t mean it hadn’texisted. that’s why I was there. I was there for a moment. Andbecause of a string of beautiful moments spent at that very sameplace, moments I would keep inside me wherever I went.”

“Believing is never a waste of time." Simon looked at me intently his eyes flickering. "Even if you're wrong you could have been right. Take me with my painting I don't know if I'm any good. So maybe I shouldn't try because maybe I'd be setting myself up for disappointment. But it's like you looking for old coins on the beach. Whether you find any or not is for bonus points it's the search that counts. It's the belief that they might be out there.”

“Look. Aren’t they romantic?” Simon said, pointing out two "re!iesdancing together, their glowing lights making spirals in the dark.“Not necessarily,” I replied. “there are "re!y species where thefemales trick the males into thinking they want to mate, but theyeat them instead.”“Oh, yeah, I think I know a few of them.” Simon laughed”