I'm fine," [her dad] said gently. "Back on the horse, Cath.'
'What's the horse?' she sighed, watching him pull on a South High hoodie. 'Jogging? Working too much?'
'Living,' he said, a little too loud. 'Life's the horse.

Eleanor had never thought about killing herself – ever – but she thought a lot about stopping.

If you can’t save your own life, is it even worth saving?

I believe that worrying about a bad thing prepares you for it when it comes. If you worry, the bad thing doesn't hit you as hard. You can roll with the punch if you see it coming.

Safety, stability--it's an illusion. It's a false god, Simon. It's like clinging to a sinking raft instead of learning to swim.

I don't feel like a trauma victim. I feel like a house after a fire. And sometimes I fell like someone who died but stayed in his body. And sometimes I feel like someone else died, like someone else sacrificed everything, so that I can have a normal life.
With wings.
And a tail.
And vampires.
And magicians.
And a boy in my arms, instead of a girl.
And a happy ending—even if it isn't the ending I ever would have dreamt for myself, or hoped for.
A chance.