“You will love again, people say. Give it time. Me with time running out. Day after day of the everyday.What they call real life, made of eighth-inch gauge. Newness strutting around as if it were significant.Irony, neatness and rhyme pretending to be poetry. I want to go back to that time after Michiko's deathwhen I cried every day among the trees. To the real.To the magnitude of pain, of being that much alive.”

“That is what love is I thought. A possibility that becomes a choice. A choice you keep making over and over. Day after day. Year after year. Time after time.”

“True love is being so in love that you run out of ways to say it. True love is having to google new and creative ways to say I love you because just saying it a thousand times a day isn't enough.”

“That is what love is. A possibility that becomes a choice. A choice you keep making, over and over. Day after day. Year after year. Time after time.”

“Am I doing what I really want to be doing? Absolutely not, yet I haven't ruled out that I'll get back into the mess. But after having my ass kicked day in and day out for ten years, it's about time that I have some life left in me.”

“I swear to you, Zane. I thought what I was doing was right. I searched for you after I left New York. You were out of my reach. When Burns read me in, the only thing I could think of was that it was the only way of getting back to you. Being partnered with you full-time, being able . . . being able to see you every day, to have you in my life. When he said you might need protecting, it was the only thing I heard. I swear to you. All I wanted from the day I left you in that hospital was you. To be back there with you.”