“How did people get over this? They obviously did. Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on to the next picnic table.”

“I just want to be able to look at Blair and see the woman I fell in love with. Not the woman who did what she did. And it’s getting harder every day.”

“How did people do this - swallow all their fears and trust someone else so implicitly with every imperfection and fear they had...”

“That the sun still rose the next morning was incredibly unjust. Someone good had died. People still woke up, had breakfast, went to work, and it was wrong. Flower petals still opened in the sun’s early light, and animals still grazed the day away, their minds untroubled. Someone good had died and the world had the audacity to move on.”

“She did not think it was true that women fell in love all at once, but rather, that they fell in love through repitition, just the way someone became brave.”

“The boy Paco had never known about any of this nor about what all these people would be doing on the next day and on other days to come. He had no idea how they really lived nor how they ended. He did not even realize they ended.”