“I know, child. What do you think's keeping me on this earth? Not easy to let go that kind of love. That kind of love's got the power to hold you tethered to a world you should have left a long time ago.”

“I know this because I understand now what love really feels like. The kind that consumes you. Love holds the power to break you. It holds the power to complete you.”

“Who are these people sharing the street with me? What is going on in their worlds, inside their heads? Are they in love? If so, is it the kind that Mum and Dad have? Based on having things in common, like raspberry picking and a love of dogs, and Shakespeare, and long country walks? Or is it the knock-you-out, eat-you-up, set-you-on-fire kind of love that I have longed for-and avoided-all my life?”

“He closes his hand around mine and I hold on. I like his hand. It's big and holds easy but sure. It's the kind of hold that says, I got you if you want me, but I'll let you go if you feel like running for a while.”

“Now that I understand love, it is very easy to recognize. You have love for me. I think you also have lust, which I thought was love for a long time, but now know is very different, although often comes together.”

“Once upon a time you were a fish. How do you know? Because I was also a fish. You, too? Sure. A long time ago. Anyway, being a fish, you knew how to swim. You were a great swimmer. A champion swimmer, you were. You loved the water. Why? What do you mean, why? Why did I love the water? Because it was your life! And as we talked, I would have let him go one finger at a time, until, without his realizing, he'd be floating without me. Perhaps that is what it means to be a father-to teach your child to live without you.”