“But there were worse things than disappointment, and I'd lived through several of them already.”

“This is fantastically squalid," said Milo. "We may never get out of here alive.”

“I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose.”

“I'd finally reached the end of myself, all my self-reliance and denial and pride unraveling into nothingness, leaving only a blank Alison-shaped space behind. It was finished. I was done.But just as I felt myself dissolving on the tide of my own self-condemnation, the dark waves receded, and I floated into a celestial calm.I saw the whole universe laid out before me, a vast shining machine of indescribable beauty and complexity. Its design was too intricate for me to understand, and I knew I could never begin to grasp more than the smallest idea of its purpose. But I sensed that every part of it, from quark to quasar, was unique and - in some mysterious way - signifi”

“I don't know how to be anything but pretend," I replied, and it ached in me how true that really was. "But if I could be real, I'd be real for you.”

“What would happen if you stopped fighting, and gave yourself permission to feel? Not just the good things, but everything?”

“I disliked numbers, and they didn't think much of me either.”

“I might not be ready to pour out my feelings to the world, but I’d had enough of trying to ignore them.”

“But there were worse things than disappointment, and I'd lived through several of them already.”

“I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a piercing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase--nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.”