“My Muse sits forlornShe wishes she had not been bornShe sits in the coldNo word she says is ever told.”

“I know why you picked her," Frank says, still sitting on the grass. "She's like you, sort of. A writer. Unhappy. Wishing she had someone who understood her. That's what killed her- being lonely.”

“She was actually a recording star in Puerto Rico when my mom was growing up. My mom was always stuck sitting backstage somewhere or sitting in a front row, watching a performance her entire childhood. She thought that when her mom stopped performing she was relieved of those duties, but all I wanted to do was sing, ever since I was born, so she's always been backstage.”

“The best kind of friend is the kind you sit with, never say a word and walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you ever had.”

“The best kind of friend is the one you could sit with,hardly saying a word, and then walk away feeling like that was[the]best time you've ever had”

“It was a question of insurmountable proportions. A single word that held every fear he had ever had-and every wish he had ever made on those cursed stars. She needn't say more. In a single syllable, she had said more than he wanted to hear in an entire lifetime.”