I want — I want the girl from the dance hall, and I know she’s sixty-three and I’m no prize either, but I want us.

Before it’s actually too late.” And I took his hand, the same hand that stepped on my feet in 1983, that wrote save me every slow one, that I’d stopped reaching for twenty-five years ago, and I said, “Then let’s not save anything for later anymore.

There isn’t a later left to save it for.

This is the later, Hal.

This is it.