“The plague had killed far more females than males. As one of the few women in The New America, especially an educated, civilized woman, I’d always supposed I was ever man’s type.”

“I had once read, in one of those pre-plague books in the library, that love was bearing witness. That it was the act of watching someone's life, of simply being there to say: you're life is worth seeing.”

“I’d stare up at the sky, reminding myself that Caleb and I were both underneath it. That wherever he was, whatever he was doing, we would always share something.”

“He especially loved people - is so happy, especially remembering Eloise.”

“You do anything for the person you love,” she said finally. "And then when you don’t think you can give any more of yourself, you do. You keep going. Because it would kill you not to.”

“I didn’t know which was worse: to be killed by some brute animal or be taken off with a wild Neanderthal on horseback.”

“What are you doing with all these books?" I asked, stepping towards a tall stack on the floor. I ran my fingers down the spines, recognizing a few familiar titles from School: Heart of Darkness, The Great Gatsby, and To the Lighthouse.Caleb came beside me, his warm shoulder brushing against mine. "I do this funny thing sometimes," she said, shooting me a mischievous grin. "I open a book, and I look at each page. It's called reading”