We are not defined by our things. It´s not the clothes that we wear, the cars that we drive, the art we acquire- It´s not where we live- but how we live that defines us. It´s our actions that are remembered long after we are gone.

Forgiveness is healing—everything is energy—thoughts create—we are all connected—what you resist persists—true love never dies—the soul’s immortality is the only true immortality—

It's not that kind of love. It's the real kind. The unconditional kind. The nonjudgemental kind. Not the physical kind. I love you as a fellow soul who inhabits this earth. I love you as a fellow immortal. I love you because I finally understand what made you the way you are. And if I could change it, I would. But I can't—so I choose to love you instead. And my hope is that my acceptance of you will spur you to do something good too, but if not—" I shrug. "At least I can say I tried.

I’m always thinking about what I’m missing. Even when I’m happy with what I have.

Just make sure you're gone by the time we get to Miles's. It creeps me out to see you sitting in his lap without his permission.

Everything passes. Everything experiences the birth and death cycle.

I guess by now I should know enough about loss to realize that you never really stop missing someone-you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence.