“And then he smiles, and in all the places around the globe where it's night, day breaks.”

“At night,when we were little,we tented Bailey's covers,crawled underneath with our flashlightsand played cards: Hearts,Whist, Crazy Eights, and our favourite: Bloody Knuckles.The competition was vicious,All day, every day,we were the Walker Girls -two peas in a podthick as thieves -but when Gram closed the doorfor the night,we bared our teeth.We played for chores,for slave duty,for truths and dares and money.We played to be better, brighter,to be more beautiful,more,just more.But it was all a ruse -we playedso we could fall asleepin the same bedwithout having to ask,so we could wrap togetherlike a braid,so while we sleptour dreams could switch bodies.(Found written on the inside cover of Wuthering Heights, Lennie's room)”

“He smiles and takes his index finger and presses it to my lips, leaves it there until my heart lands on Jupiter: three seconds, then removes it, and heads back into the living room. Whoa - well, that was either the dorkiest or sexiest moment of my life, and I'm voting for sexy on account of my standing here dumbstruck and giddy, wondering if he did kiss me after all.”

“Life's a freaking mess. In fact, I'm going to tell Sarah we need to start a new philosophical movement: messessentialism instead of existentialism: For those who revel in the essential mess that is life. Because Gram's right, there's not one truth ever, just a bunch of stories, all going on at once, in our heads, in our hearts, all getting in the way of each other. It's all a beautiful calamitous mess. It's like the day Mr. James took us into the woods and cried triumphantly, "That's it! That's it!" to the dizzying cacophony of soloing instruments trying to make music together. That is it.”

“But what if music is what escapes when a heart breaks?”

“He doesn’t have to say it, I feel it too; it’s not subtle - like every bell for miles and miles is ringing at once, loud and clanging, hungry ones and tiny, happy, chiming ones, all of them sounding off in this moment. I put my hands around his neck, pull him to me, and then he’s kissing me hard and so deep, and i am flying, sailing, soaring…”

“Later, as he plays and plays, as all the fog burns away, I think, he's right. That's exactly it--I am crazy sad, and somewhere deep inside, all I want is to fly.”