“So really, it isn't as if noticing something like his well-toned biceps or his seriously long eyelashes means anything - other than a confirmation of the fact that I'm not blind.”

“I feel stupidly flustered right now. “Okay, well, he’s still just like – and then there’s his friggin’ eyelashes—”“You noticed his eyelashes?” Amber asks, like it’s weird to do.It is, I realize with a horrible sinking feeling. It’s weird to notice somebody’s eyelashes.”

“There are those who'd rob a blind man of his eyelashes if they could.”

“This is love, she thought, isn't it? When you notice someone's absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence?”

“I was sixteen then, and I'm seventeen now, and sometimes I act like I'm about thirteen. Sometimes, I act a lot older than I am--I really do. But people never notice it. People never notice anything.”

“Is there a fungus that speaks to you? I'm serious. People hear things. They hear God."He meant it. He was serious. He wanted to mean it, to hear anything the man might say, the wholeshapeless narrative of his unraveling.”