“And I wished I could believe him. I wished with all that I had. And when you're eleven, you're on the cusp between still believing wishing worked if you wanted something hard enough and understanding the world is teeth and sharp edges. I wished. I did. I promise you with all that I have that I did. But I knew the teeth. The sharp edges. And they were bigger than wishing. I was only eleven, but I was the product of my upbringing too. Maybe that's why I was able to be the one to leave. Maybe I'd been looking for a reason and latched on to the first one that came, no matter how hard it was. If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that it's easier to leave someone before they leave you. Because eventually, everyone leaves. It's inevitable.”

“ 'But even I know that in your line of work, there's a difference between being a volunteer and being volun-told.' ”

“And if there is one last thing I would have you know before we reach these final pages, it's that sometimes, no matter how hard we try, no matter how hard we want it to be so, sometimes there is no such a thing as happy ending. This is my ending. This is how i burn.”

“I’ll wait for you,” he said as his hand dropped to his side, as his eyes began to dim. “I think I could wait for you forever.”

“I watched the black ocean in his eyes and saw this flash behind them and understood what he had meant the night before, about the insanity that had gripped him. He was not so far gone as to be lost, but he was close, and I knew it had come from me turning my back on him as I had started to flee. Whether I wanted to or not, I anchored him to this world, and I was the only thing he'd known, maybe for his whole life. He had watched me, yes, he had stalked me, oh yes, but it had driven him to the edge. I inhaled sharply at the wildness I saw in him, the despair that was threatening to rise.”

“It was just me and him, there in that place where tragedy had happened, where I thought my life had ended. But somehow, he made it seem like a home again. Somehow, he gave it back to me.”

“Seven smirked as he walked back over to me. "I gave you catharsis last night. Twice.”

“I don’t think this is working out between us,” I told him. “You and I want different things. It’s not me, it’s you.”

“The big kid hasn't said anything yet. 'I do like hearing myself talk,' I say, 'only because I have a lot of neat things to say, but eventually the conversation will run out in, like, four or five years, and then where will we be?' Wonder of all wonders, he cracks a little smile. I don't blame him. I am pretty funny.”

“One thing that they don’t tell you is that fires can’t burn bright forever.”

“I can't do it. I can't get into a philosophical debate with an archangel, knowing how ridiculous it is and how unprepared I am.”