It was a great escape for me and it was a way to take a break from what was going on in my own world, to go into another world.
No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way.
Some things, when they change, never do return to the way they once were. Butterflies for instance, and women who've been in love with the wrong man too often.
Jill and I have known each other our whole lives. One house separates our houses but we act as if it doesn't exist. We met before we were born and we'll probably still know each other after we die. At least, that's the way we're planning it.
Another world must surely exist somewhere one where she would be known in some deep way that was far beyond words.
The best way to die is when your living
That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.
She was disappearing a little more each day, so thin, so frail, a wisp of smoke. One day she would surely vanish altogether, and there was no way to stop her.
He started to look at me in a manner I recognized: it was the way I looked at a new book, one I had never read before, one that surprised me with all it had to say.