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“i missed you more than i should have, more than i wanted to. i went to hell for you. i’d do it again.”

“and yet the lure was right in front of me all along. i just had to put his damsel in distress. of course he came running.” -somehow the most romantic sentence i’ve heard in a modern book and it isn’t even a romance.

“that was all there was in this world. no heroes or villains, just the people you’d brave the waves for, and the ones you’d let drown.”

“but she liked this life full of pointless beauty. it could all disappear as easily as a dream, only the memory of it wouldn’t fade the way dreams did.”

“why raise children on the promise of magic? why create a want in them that can never be satisfied- for revelation, for transformation- and then set them adrift in a bleak, pragmatic world?”

“this is what your magic is for, isn’t it? this is what it does. props up people in power, lets the people with everything take a little more?”

“i know why we try to keep the dead alive: we try to keep them alive in order to keep them with us. i also know that if we are to live ourselves there comes a point at which we must relinquish the dead, let them go, keep them dead. let them become the photograph on the table. let them become the name on the trust accounts. let go of them in the water.”

“we imagined we knew everything the other thought, even when we did not necessarily want to know it, but in fact, I have come to see, we knew not the smallest fraction of what there was to know.”

“grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it.”

“the way i write is who i am, or have become…”

“but here it hung, and it was an artifact of love. well- of a hopeless, doomed, selfish, ridiculous love, but what other kind had ever existed?”

“the love of his life. wasn’t there supposed to be a love of his life?”

“his favorite song, not yet written. his favorite movie, not yet made.”

2026

“how could she explain that this city was a graveyard? that they were walking every day through streets where there had been a holocaust, a mass murder of neglect and antipathy, that when they stepped through a pocket of cold air, they didn’t understand that it was a ghost, it was a boy the world had spat out?”