“Just like this, the kids we raised slowly start growing up and away from us. We have to gradually let go of their hands for them to grow... but as parents we're reluctant... because the instant of letting go is just too harsh. Even though deep down, we know that we have to let go one day.”

“Wouldn't it be better to go like this? If we live our lives as an adventure, there's only one proper way to end them. Don't you feel it? We're young and free and beautiful and brilliant and so perfectly alive. We're burning bright and fast, like supermassive stars, you know? And we can go supernova, ignite the whole sky in a fiery explosion when we die. Or we can just grow old, wither, let our outer layers float away as we wait for death to take us.”

“He stood up, put the tree back under the grow light. 'There. That's what's going to happen to us. It's called grafting. Taking something from one place and fixing it to another until they grow together. We didn't start from the same tree, but we're going to grow together like we did.”

“We all, one day, realize that we’re not going to be kids forever and we’re going to grow up.”

“I think of me and Melanie when we were younger, on the high dive at the pool in Mexico. We would always hold hands as we jumped, but by the time we swam back up to the surface, we'd have let go. No matter how we tried, once we started swimming, we always let go. But after we bobbed to the surface, we'd climb out of the pool, clamber up the high-dive ladder, clasp hands, and do it again. We're swimming separately now. I get that. Maybe it's just what you have to do to keep above water. But who knows? Maybe one day, we'll climb out, grab hands, and jumo again.”

“We don't have a clue what's really going down, we just kid ourselves that we're in control of our lives while a paper's thickness away things that would drive us mad if we thought about them for too long play with us, and move us around from room to room, and put us away at night when they're tired, or bored.”