“...the purser has something resembling joy in her voice when she welcomes us to San Francisco. 'I probably don't need to tell you all to open the overhead bins with caution,' she says. 'If your contents haven't shifted, you must be carrying lead weights.”

“She points at two big steps on the back of her bike. "You have training... somethings? What are they?""Feet platforms. My dad made them for my cousin to use. Step on.""But I don't have a cool helmet with a lightning bolt.""Your head is hard enough.""Funny." I steady myself without touching her."To the train yard," she says and pushes on the pedals. We don't move."Anytime," I tell her. 'You know. While we're still young and beautiful."She pushes hard again. "You weight a ton.""You need me to drive?""I need momentum, that's all. Get off.""You're very charming, but you must hear that all the time.""Get off," she says. "I'll ride, and you run after me and jump on the bike.""Do many guys ask you out twice?""Only the ones with balls.”

“...Each secret you carry has a weight all its own. They add up, secrets, to a burden you must carry all your days.”

“Goodbye," she said.When I didn't say it back, she rested her hand on the top of my head. The weight was strange and gentle. "I love you," she said. "And when I tell you goodbye, I don't mean forever or for long. Just that I'm going home now, and so are you.”

“Her mouth was open, as if she wanted to say something, and I wanted to kiss her to show her that sometimes you don't need words. Sometimes they only get in the way, and you end up talking yourself out of things you need. People you want.”

“Don't tell a woman she's pretty; tell her there's no other woman like her, and all roads will open to you”