Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?

It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.

Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.

Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.

I knew the human exaggeration for sorrow - a broken heart. Melanie remembered speaking the phrase herself. But I'd always thought of it as a hyperbole, a traditional description for something that had no real physiological link, like a green thumb. So I wasn't expecting the pain in my chest. The nausea, yes, the swelling in my throath, yes, and, yes, the tears burning in my eyes. But what was the ripping sensation just under my rib cage? It made no logical sense. And it wasn't just ripping, but twisting and pulling in different directions. Because Melanie's heart broke, too, and it was a separate sensation, as if we'd grown another organ to compensate for out twin awarnesses. A double heart for a double mind. Twice the pain.

It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the things you do with it. You are beautiful.