She didn't like being twelve. It felt like someplace between who she'd been and who she was about to be. It felt like no place at all.

I thought that love was a river, endless and deep. I thought it merely happened, washing over you like water. It was nothing to search for, nothing to force. I didn't understand that even when we can't control our fate, we alone have the last say in matters of the heart. We can give it freely, even in the worst of times, even when it isn't returned.

You build your world around someone, and then what happens when he disappears? Where do you go-into pieces, into atoms, into the arms of another man? You go shopping, you cook dinner, you work odd hours, you make love to someone else on June nights. But you're not really there.

Sometimes the right thing feels all wrong until it is over and done with.

The adults don't know what's happening on the kids' universe and the kids don't know what's happening on the adults' universe

You can't dispute the ridiculous. You can't argue reasonably with evil.

One of my favorites is "Time and Again" by Jack Finney. It takes place in Manhattan and goes back and forth between 1882 and the 1950s. It's really a cult book.