“The people we care about are always worth more to us than the people we don't. No matter what anyone pretends.”

“It doesn’t matter what we are. It matters what we do.”

“There's nothing I want. There's nothing I can't do. I don't care about anything. No matter what, I am an imposter. An actor in my own life.”

“What are you smirking about, over there?""I'm more well-rounded than you.""Not possible. You're American," he said. "And if it is true, it's only because you like crap.”

“What do I sound like?" I asked, more breathily than I intended. God, so predictable.He considered his answer for a moment before he gave it. "Dissonant," he said finally."Meaning?"Another long pause. "Unstable."Hmm.He shook his head. "Not the way you're thinking," he said, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "In music, consonant chords are points of arrival. Rest. There's no tension," he tried to explain. "Most pop music hooks are consonant, which is why most people like them. They're catchy but interchangeable. Boring. Dissonant intervals, however, are full of tension," he said, holding my gaze. "You can't predict which way they're going to go. It makes limited people uncomfortable - frustrated, because they don't understand the point, and people hate what they don't understand. But the ones who get it," he said, lifting a hand to my face, "find it fascinating. Beautiful." He traced the shape of my mouth with his thumb. "Like you.”

“There will come a moment when there's nothing you want more than us. Together. When you're free of every fear and there is nothing in our way.”

“I wish we could make out in your bed."Noah sighed. "As do I, but I'm afraid we have ritual burning to conduct.""It's always something.""Isn't it though?”