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The exhausted mind is obsession’s easiest prey,
The nice thing about talking to yourself was that mostly you didn’t have to finish what you were saying.
the harder you had to work to open a package, the less you ended up caring about what was inside.
she’s lost in the land of sleep and he is too, and when they go there they never go together, and she is afraid that is also a preview of death, a place where there may be dreams but never love, never home, never a hand to hold yours when squadrons of birds flock across the burnt-orange sun at the close of the day.
Memories screwed up perspective, and the most vivid ones could annihilate time completely while they held sway.
There was a lot they didn’t tell you about death, she had discovered, and one of the biggies was how long it took the ones you loved most to die in your heart.
