“I watched her and I watched the birds' shadows flit across her face, and I...wanted. I wanted more happy memories to hang up on the ceiling, so many happy memories with this girl that they would crowd the ceiling and flap out into the hall and burst out of the house.”

“Why?” I say, so quietly that it comes out sounding like a tiny, tired sigh. “Nobody wants to be mediocre.” Her shadow on the ceiling is monstrous, a witch in profile.”

“I watched her face switch among the radio stations of memory”

“And then I feel as if I'm witnessing a miracle, as ever so slowly she raises her face towards the moon. I watch her drink in the sight, sensing the flood of memories she's unleashed and wanting nothing more than to let her know I'm here. But instead I stay where I am and stare up at the moon as well. And for the briefest instant, it almost feels like we're together again.”

“My mind/a twist of clutter/ as i lie in bed imagining my life/ I watch the shadows on the ceiling./Memories sail across my eyes. / I need courage to see them. / I fight with myself/But then I close my eyes to the twilight/ And release myself to sleep.The scars you can't see are the hardest to heal.I'd rather be lucky than good. Good is just so overrated. Bad girls have the most fun.A fool empties his head every time he opens his mouth”

“I stood there for a few more seconds, watching her go. And I couldn’t do anything but admire her courage, her compassion. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I was shaking.”