“Secrets and sharing soda,
That's how our time began.
Love is a story told to a friend
It's second hand.”

“Friends share secrets. That's what keeps us close.”

“Write about us,” Robinson urged. “Tell our story.” And I did it; I told our story. You hold it in your hands.”

“Our stories may be singular, but our destination is shared.”

“What the learned world tends to offer is one second-hand scrap of information illustrating ideas derived from another second-hand scrap of information. The second-handedness of the learned world is the secret of its mediocrity.”

“There's the story, then there's the real story, then there's the story of how the story came to be told. Then there's what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too.”

“The love we'd shared always burned within me, no matter how often I told myself to move on, no matter how much the world did think I'd moved on.”

“But that is another story and shall be told another time.”

“No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.”

“Insanity's so personal. It's hard to know who shares our secrets.”