“She's sweet but too apocalyptic. You try kissing someone good-night who's just told you for the umpteenth time that the world's experiencing its last disgusting paroxysm before Rapture.”

“Nothing before you counts," he said. "And I can't even imagine an after." She shook her head. "Don't.""What?""Don't talk about after.""I just meant that... I want to be the last person who ever kisses you, too.... That sounds bad, like a death threat or something. What I'm trying to say is, you're it. This is it for me.”

“Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time folds again.”

“It's like I told you last night son. The earth is mostly just a boneyard. But pretty in the sunlight, he added”

“She was so beautiful, like someone who you will never meet, but always dream of meeting, like someone who is too good for you.”

“She looked up and he was looking at her, too, and it was like kissing - or perhaps the moment just before kissing, or maybe a long time after.”