“Marti wasn't the type to give up without a fight, especially not if she was very afraid - some people are like that. They lean into the fear.”

“He'd tried so hard to fight his fear, but there was a something liberating about giving up the battle and recognizing his fear was part of him. It wasn't something to be exorcised. It wasn't something to be obeyed. It needed only to be acknowledged.”

“Some guys are the type of people who bring brass knuckles to a fight. I've always thought it prudent to bring some running shoes.”

“She imagined herself as some sort of vessel to be filled up with love. But it wasn't like that. The love was within her all the time, and its only renewal came from giving it away.”

“Some of us give up on life with only a resigned sigh. Others fight a little, then lose hope. Still others-and I am one of those-never give up. We fight and fight and fight. We fight no matter the cost of battle, the losses we take, the improbability of success. We fight to the very end. It's not a question of courage. It's something constitutional, an inability to let go.”

“My fears?”“Yes.”“I fear oblivion,” he said without a moment’spause. “I fear it like the proverbialblind man who’s afraid of the dark.”