Until it was nothing more than a gray paper moon, hanging in the sky.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (thank you, oliversarmada)

[I read Vida’s message out loud, and we sat with that for a beat or two. ‘I thought you said she was childlike,’ Connie said, tossing me the wedge of parmesan cheese.] ‘Kids grow up,’ I said.

Catherine Ryan Hyde, Second Hand Heart (thank you, daisystrange)

Perhaps the memory of the reek of Maur’s despair made her a little forgetful too, for she began to think of the wide silver lake as a place she had visited only in dreams, and of the tall blond man she had once known as a creature of those dreams; for the not quite mortal part of her did sleep, that she might love her country and her husband.

Robin McKinley, The Hero and the Crown (thank you, pumbled)

The Seller closed his door and watched as the Collector walked on down the glittering, milky boulevard.

William Kotzwinkle, The Curio Shop (thank you, inspiretherain)

[Tatie was dead. There was nothing Paul could possibly do for me except let me go - back to Paris and Pamplona and San Sebastian, back to Chicago when I was Hadley Richardson, a girl stepping off a train about to meet the man who would change her life.] That girl, that impossibly lucky girl, needed nothing.

Paula McLain, The Paris Wife (thank you, pinkcloudpaper)

[I do, Augustus.]
I do.

John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (thank you, to-seekagreatperhaps)

He feels empty, and he stares without interest at the tiny black speck and the Alps.

Alan Lightman, Einstein’s Dreams (thank you, starcrossedliar)

He lays on the bed in a state of coma, too feelingless to sit up or think. The sun went down and hid his face. The rooks cawed and flew away. The sparrows found their nests. And night came striding fast, bringing silence in its train, and covered up the empires of the world in its blanket of darkness and gloom… .

Ahmed Ali, Twilight in Delhi (thank you, aurora4781)

We are truly meant to be here.

Paul Davies, The Mind of God (thank you, disassociate)

So call the field to rest, and let’s away
To part the glories of this happy day.

William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (thank you, turtle787)