“All I can think is: His head is gone and I don’t know how to merge with the Book.”
“I don’t know how [books] accumulate like that. They’re part rabbit, I think.”
“I knew I was gone for you. Don’t know how it happened, just know it did.”
“Don’t think I won’t know if you’re lying, I know how many bases you’ve been on, you red headed puritan. I will be able to tell fact from fiction.”
“You know that saying about how you don’t know what you have until it’s gone? I already did know what I had, and now that she’s gone, I know even more.”
“I don’t know how to fix this, or if it can be fixed. There’s too much to say. Too much I don’t know how to say.”