That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.

It was the sort of beauty you feel so deeply it becomes contagious and somehow makes you feel beautiful too.

I knew what it was to yearn for a life so distant it seemed that it had never been anything more than a dream.

I don't think I make much of a distinction between the 'real' and the 'fantastic.' They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I'm concerned.

I wrote to find beauty and purpose, to know that love is possible and lasting and real.... Once I got to my desk, once I started writing, I still believed anything was possible.

Jill told me that when you're really in love, you know right away. I'm not exactly sure how this happens. Is it like a flash of lightning? Like an angel tapping you on the shoulder? Or is it similar to choosing a puppy? You think you're picking the cutest one, but really you wind up going home with the one who keeps insisting on climbing into your lap.

I can hurt myself more than anyone else can, she told her sister. I can do it with my eyes closed.