“The girl from the front row grabbed AIMii on the arm. “Remember, it’s bumpy.” “Why is the color of silence bumpy?” AIMii asked. “Because it’s hard to do,” she whispered loudly.”
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“20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. ‘The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and…’ She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. ‘And it’s cold, Max. It’s so cold…”
“When you're down, remember your triumphs. [...] Sometimes you get in trouble and crash. Other times: just a bumpy landing.”
“At first, she could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him?”
“Why . . .” she begins. “Why do you want to climb it?”“Because it’s there.”
“Why do we always fight?” she whispered.“You know why.” Yeah, she did. “It’s science.” “Combustible chemistry,” he agreed. “Dangerous.”