Henry Poole moves in to a house in his old neighborhood, to spend what he believes are his remaining days alone. The discovery of a "miracle" by a nosy neighbor ruptures his solitude and restores his faith in life.

Patience: Imagine that there was something wrong with you, Mr. Poole. And you did this seemingly meaningless thing, put your hand on a wall, and you were healed.
Henry Poole: Hope doesn't save lives.
Henry Poole: This used to be my room. This was the last place I remember being happy. And even then, I can barely remember it.
Henry Poole: [Henry is the target of a surprise water balloon attack] I surrender. You win. I surrender.
Dawn Stupek: It's getting harder, isn't it?
Henry Poole: What's that?
Dawn Stupek: To pretend this isn't happening.