“It's obviously not impossible, because it's happening...”

“Ah, yes, pink camo,” I murmur, gesturing my chin at her tank top and hoodie. “Because you never know when you’ll have to hide in a bubblegum factory.”

“If wishes were horses, what the heck would I need wishes for?”

“Good grief. They're like the freaking poster family for the NRA.”

“...Death is often as cruel in his asceticism as he is in his greed.”

“It's not differences that divide us. It's our judgments about each other that do.”

“The paradox of love is that to have it is to want to preserve it because it's perfect in the moment but that preservation is impossible because the perfection is only ever an instant passed through. Love like travel is a series of moments that we immediately leave behind. Still we try to hold on and embalm against all evidence and common sense proclaiming our promises and plans. The more I loved him the more I felt hope. But hope acknowledges uncertainty and so I also felt my first premonitions of loss.”