“Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.”

“Giving up on love is the same thing as giving up on life itself.”

“I loved you from that moment on,” I say.“I loved you from that moment on,” you agree.”

“There are hundreds of reasons for Daniel and meto be impossible. History has not been kindto two boys who love each other like we do.But putting that aside. And not even consideringthe fact that a hundred and fifty years ago,his family was in a small town in Russiaand my family was in a similarly small townin Ireland- I can't imagine they could haveimagined us here, together. Forgetting our gender,ignoring all the strange roads that led to usbeing in the same time and place, there is stillthe simple impossibility of love. That all of ourcontradicting securities and insecurities,interests and disinterests, beliefs and doubts,could somehow translate into this commonuncommon affection should be as impossible as walking to the moon. But instead, I love him.”

“The terrorists-those nineteen people, with hundreds or maybe thousands behind them-did the worst thing you can possibly imagine. But tens of millions people did the right thing...On 9/11, all the hatred and murder could not compare with the weight of love, of bravery, of caring.”

“Why are there so many people out here?' Boomer asked as we bobbed and weaved roughly forward.'Christmas shopping.' I explained.'Already? Isn't it early to returning things?'I really had no sense of how his mind worked.”

“There has to be a moment at the beginning where you wonder whether you’re in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself. If the moment doesn’t pass, that’s it—you’re done. And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it’s even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lovers’ face.”