“I stood there feeling the lightness of my bones, knowing now this was not only lack of sleep that had transformed my bones into feathers, but my body's recognition that soon I would be leaving this place I had inhabited for one year, this place made entirely of grief.”

“I believed I could identify the scent of the sky as I stood there, a blue menthol fragrance similar to the scent of seawater that sprayed into my face when I first dove into the ocean. That initial scent was much more subtle than the ocean's heavy, fishy aroma; it was a whiff of salt and mint, just as I approached the water on a dive, that warned me that a more powerful scent would soon enter my nose. It was the scent I dreamed in. And it was the scent of that spring sky as I stood in my yard.”

“I looked around at the rooms that I did not see as rooms but more as a landscape for my emotions, a biography of memory.”

“Ma, Kyle has the personality of a light switch. I don't have a crush on him. -Now, what exactly is that sentence supposed to mean? - I mean, he has two moods, and the presence of something that was created to go unnoticed throughout life. Like a light switch: on, off, there when you need it, forgettable when you don't.”

“The room had the impersonal, disconnected feel of a waiting room on Jupiter.”

“I discovered windows one afternoon and after that, nothing was ever the same.”

“I heard silence, silence infinite as the bottom of the ocean, a silence that sealed.”