“Grace: I picked up my sweater from the floor and crawled back into bed. Shoving my pillow aside, I balled up the sweater to use instead.I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.It was almost like he was there.”

“I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.”

“She jumped off my bed and shoved my stack of books over; thousands of words crashed onto the floor.”

“I still watch her now, like I always did, and she watches me, her brown eyes looking out from a wolf's face. This is the story of a boy who used to be a wolf, and a girl who became one.I won't let this be my last good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper cranes of me and Grace, and I've made my wish. I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.”

“Then I picked my book back up again and stroked her hair and read to the soundtrack of her breaths.”

“Without turning on the light, I went to my bed and lay down, my arm thrown across the mattress, my hand aching because Grace wasn't underneath it”

“My wolf was a cute guy and he was holding my hand. I could die happy.”