“I need to live my life in the light of their deaths. I need to live.”

“I need him to know that I came for him. I need him to know that somehow, at some point in the tunnels, I began to love him.”

“I have had to give up so much, so many selves and lives already. I have grown up and out of the rubble of my old lives, of things and people I have cared for....”

“No guest rooms.” I shake my head resolutely. “I want to be in a room room. A lived-in room.”

“Two weeks until your cure" she says finally. "Sixteen days" I say, but in my head I'm counting: Seven days. Seven days until I'm free and away from all these people and their sliding superficial lives brushing past one another gliding, gliding, gliding from life to death. For them there's hardly a change between the two.”

“Because?' I prompt'Because I'm sorry, but I can't help it, and I really need to kiss you right now.”

“Be honest: Are you surprised that I didn't realize sooner? Are you surprised that it took me so long to even /think/ the word -- death? Dying? Dead?Do you think I was being stupid? Naive?Try not to judge. Remember that we're the same, you and me.I thought I would live forever too.”