We could have been happy. I know that, and it is perhaps the hardest thing to know.

When we read dystopia, we root for these people to break free because we are these people; hoping and fighting against things that are bigger than ourselves.

Is falling in love with someone's story the same thing as falling in love with the person himself?

This is a difficult balance, telling the truth: how much to share, how much to keep, which truths will wound but not ruin, which will cut too deep to heal.

Does loving someone mean you want them to be safe? Or that you want them to be able to choose?

I had really great parents who always gave me lots of opportunity for choice, but I didnt always realize how rare that was for a girl for them to say, You can be a mom or have a career or do both or do something we havent thought of yet.

Some things are created to be together.