“I desperately want to talk to her now. I want to ask her who it was who so deftly crafted and shaped the legend that was our love.”

“I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her.”

“I ask her if she loves me and I always feel bad when I ask her that because it makes me sound so desperate. I ask and ask and ask.”

“He wanted to be in a bad mood, so be it. Whatever. I had a new baby tiger who could talk to me and thought I was her Loolah!”

“I just wanted one person who would look at me and not want to see someone else.”“Who looks at you like that?” I lift my head up and lower my hands so I can see her face, and I can’t imagine anyone looking at this girl and wanting to see anything but her.“Everyone who loves me.”“Who is it they want to see?“A dead girl.”

“I knew her so well that I loved her, or maybe I loved her so well that I knew her. I didn't want to fight her anymore. I wanted to quit. I wanted to go home. So I blew up her planet.”