“The introduction was meant to be all important and elegant and meaningful and “This summer marks the voyage of discovery of Livia Stowe,” and instead all I’m doing is writing about the plane crashing and when they find my laptop the only message I’ll have left for my loved ones and the good of humanity is “Oh, noooooo, we’re all going to die! It was the turkeys!” They will know that I knew about the loose bit on the wing. And didn’t tell anyone. Okay, everything’s smoothing out again now. The flap is still flapping, but we’ve made it through the flying turkeys, and the plane has stopped bumping. The flight attendants still don’t seem bothered, so I think maybe I’m not going to die today.”

“In that second, I think about running through that door and going with him. But I know that it’s not the road I’m meant for.Because we’re both still incapable of love. We’re both not ready yet.And I know that I’ll miss him. And some nights, I’ll cry in my sleep.But for now, I’m okay. And that’s all that matters.The void in my heart has finally been filled.And as the train moves farther and farther from me on the platform, I can only smile.”

“LAST NITE I HAD A DREAM. NOW I KNOW FOUR THINGS. I KNOW THAT MY VOICE DOESN’T CHANGE – BUT I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY. I KNOW THAT I AM GOD’S INSTRUMENT. I KNOW WHEN I’M GOING TO DIE – AND NOW A DREAM HAS SHOWN ME HOW I’M GOING TO DIE. I’M GOING TO BE A HERO! I TRUST THAT GOD WILL HELP ME, BECAUSE WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO LOOKS VERY HARD.”

“Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip. I prayed for wind shear effect. I prayed for pelicans sucked into the turbines and loose bolts and ice on the wings. On takeoff, as the plane pushed down the runway and the flaps tilted up, with our seats in their full upright position and our tray tables stowed and all personal carry-on baggage in the overhead compartment, as the end of the runway ran up to meet us with our smoking materials extinguished, I prayed for a crash.”

“That’s the point. This healthy-feeling time now just feels like a tease. Like I’m in this holding pattern, flying in smooth circles within sight of the airport, in super-comfortable first class. But I can’t enjoy the in-flight movie or free chocolate chip cookies because I know that before the airport is able to make room for us, the plane is going to run out of fuel, and we’re going to crash-land into a fiery, agonizing death.”

“My friends are under strict instruction that the moment I die, my heart should be taken out of my chest and thrown into the sea. My body should be buried in a still-undisclosed location, but only they will know it. Everybody said that I was going to die when I was 27, but now I’m 28. I fell out of a carriage when I was 11, and I almost died, so I’ve jumped the queue. I’m going to be alive until I’m 100—that’s my plan.”