“I remember thinking, 'Sometimes you're riding high in April and shot down in June, but at least we have each other.' We were full of enthusiasm and color, and you could sense that something was brewing that could be amazing, but we weren't quite there yet.”

“We could be something amazing- or we could end up destroying each other.”

“You whispered my full name and we fell asleep in each other's arms and I remember how the next morning you were gone, completely gone, and nothing in my bed or the house could have proven otherwise.”

“There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . .And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . .”

“I have a sense that we have not yet arrived, that we are still reaching. For each other. For who we are meant to be.”

“we could hurt each other even when we weren't trying to, and that none of us was as perfect as we liked to pretend.”