Ten Thousand Skies Above You

Ten thousand skies, and a million worlds, and it still wouldn’t be enough for me to share with you. Nothing less than forever will do.

The multiverse is infinite. So, yeah, we go through some terrible things together, and I’ve seen versions of you who are darker, and damaged, and I don’t care. I want you even when you’re broken. I want you no matter what. Your darkness, your anger, whatever it is you fear inside yourself—it doesn’t matter. I love you completely, don’t you see? I even want the worst of you because it’s still a part of you.

I want you when it’s crazy, when it’s frightening, when it’s impossible, because there’s nothing within you that could hurt me half as much as not having you.

Traveling through the worlds gives you perspective. It makes you value what you have.

But grief changes. It softens, adapts its shape to become a part of you. That kind of sorrow never gets any lighter, but you grow accustomed to the weight as you carry it on.

There is a strength within us that we can't even comprehend until it's called upon. We are, at our core, built to survive.

And I love you. In any world, any universe.

Stop measuring yourself against us. It’s not the right scale. You have your own gifts, your own talents. Show the world everything you’re capable of, Marguerite. You don’t even see how amazing you are.

Sometimes I look at you, and I think—if I didn’t know we shared a destiny, if I hadn’t seen the proof for myself, I’d never believe this was real. That you could love me as much as I love you.

That kind of sorrow never gets any lighter, but you grow accustomed to the weight as you carry it on.

I think you feel more deeply than most people ever do; you just don’t know how to show it. You always feel—out of step. You’re not like the people around you, and they know it as well as you do. And you think it’s because something’s wrong with you, so you retreat deeper into the background. That just means people don’t get to know the real you. You’re lonely. You’ve been lonely so long I think you’ve forgotten there’s any other way to be.

His gray eyes met mine. "It doesn't matter where I go. I'll still be yours.

Their intentions may be good, but their judgment isn’t.

My love of creativity is one of my constants, a pole star amid the many constellations of possibilities and personalities that make up all the people I could be.

People tend to find their destiny, no matter what world they're in.

I can tell he's kissing me this desperately because he thinks it might be the last time. The way I'm kissing him should tell him it's not. Not even close. Ten thousand skies, and a million worlds, and it still wouldn't be enough for me to share with you. Nothing less than forever will do.

I love you." "And I love you. In any world, in any universe." His smile was crooked. "This world is enough." Then he became more serious. "Sometimes I look at you, and I think - if I didn't know we shared a destiny, if I hadn't seen the proof for myself, I'd never believe this was real. That you could love me as much as I love you.

Sometimes our hearts are wilder than we know.

People talk about their heart being torn in two, but I always thought it was a metaphor, no more. But it really feels like that, like something precious at the core of me is being ripped into halves, neither of them complete.

I like that it's a mystery -- that the universe always knows something we won't.

What most people call instinct in people is really the interpretation of small subconscious cues.

Your dreams are as important as anyone else’s. Your future is as important as mine. I’m willing to make compromises, if that’s what it takes for us to remain together—but we shouldn’t compromise before we even start.

When I traveled, and got lost within the other Paul Markovs—I always sensed the differences. The ways they thought and spoke and dreamed that I never would, or could.

How smug I was, telling Theo how hard we tried to do right by the other selves we visit. I’m so full of it. I took more than this Marguerite’s only night with the man she loved; I took away her choices.

I love you completely, don't you see? I even want the worst part of you because it's still a part of you." I press one hand against his chest, as if it could send everything I feel straight into his heart. "I want you when it's crazy, when it's frightening, when it's impossible, because there's nothing within you that could hurt me half as much as not having you.

A lot of people say stuff like that about tragedies only because they think they’re supposed to,

We learn about people by observing their choices.

My knowledge of computers begins and ends with hit power switch, magic box comes on.

Also, somehow, there doesn't seem to be any old-fashioned gender roles in place, or any gender roles at all. The priest who condemned me to the mob was a woman. I'll cheer for equality later.

I loved you enough to give you up.