“Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence.”
“Cold one day, sweet the next; irresistibly flirty one moment, resistibly obnoxious the next.”
“It's so strange how one day you can be on this earth, and the next day not.”
“I once had a dream about a woman, and the next day she died. I stopped sleeping for three days after that to try to save some lives, but then my body relented and I went back to being a murderer.”
“To hang on from day to day and from week to week, spinning out a present that had no future, seemed an unconquerable instinct, just as one's lungs will always draw the next breath so long as there is air available.”
“My greatest fear? I’ll just stop breathing one day. My next greatest fear? That I no longer care.”