“I felt as if the Milky Way, hovering above our heads like a celestial pitcher, had suddenly overturned, pouring suns and planets down my throat. Stars seemed to be shooting out of my finger and toes, the ends of my hair.”

“I felt it burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. I felt like I was dying.”

“You moved my head so that it was lying in your lap. "Keep your eyes open," you said. "Stay with me."I tried. It felt like I was using every muscle in my face. But I did it. I saw you from upside down, your lips above my eyes and your eyes above my lips. "Talk to me," you said. My throat felt like it was closing up, as if my skin had swollen, making my throat a lump of solid flesh. I gripped your hand. "Keep watching me, then," you said. "Keep listening.”

“I felt the warmth of his gaze from the tips of my hair to the tips of my toes.”

“After I hit a home run I had a habit of running the bases with my head down. I figured the pitcher already felt bad enough without me showing him up rounding the bases.”

“I lift the board high above my head and ... bring the metal down on the driver's exposed neck. There it sticks, stuck in his throat, like an awkward question.”