“Even for the very clever it can be like breaking bones to stand back from something that’s been in front of you all your life.”

“It's like dinosaurs. We can put them back together perfectly, bone for bone, but we don't know what they smelled like, what kind of sounds they made, or how big they really looked standing in the grass under all those fossil fern trees. Even the sunlight must have been different, and the wind. What can bones tell you about a kind of wind that doesn't blow anymore?”

“Excuse me? Did I miss something? What has ever been romantic about vomit?“A man standing by your side when you’re sick. Holding your hair back from your face… that’s romantic.”“In what alternate universe do you live? Here in a place I like to call reality, that’s disgusting. Who in their right mind would find that romantic?”

“All I can tell you is this. Some hearts break from grief some from joy. Some even break from love. But hearts break because they are too small to contain the gifts life gives us. Your task will be to let your heart grow large enough not to break”

“Very gently. Like there are eggshells on your pedals, and you don’t want to break them. That’s how you drive in the rain.”

“Sticks and stones can break your bones, but names can kill you.”