It’s what you do that counts, not what you consider doing.

I think people can be trusted to know what makes them unhappy. Maybe we don't always know what we want exactly, but we can usually say what we don't with a fair amount of specificity.

Finally, I understood what else was going on. I might be slow, but given time, I put the pieces together. "You have no reason to be jealous, I promise. We talked... and trained. You're the only boy who gets close like this." "Oh." A long, slow breath escaped him. "I feel so stupid." I put my lips to his cheek and whispered, "Don't. I love you, Fade.

Men can be very stupid. We cease to value what we have until it's gone, and only then do we realize the gold we glimpsed in distant hills pales as dross compared to treasure we had in hand.

Because I love you.' It was easy to say it this time now that I understood what it meant. Then I quoted his own words back to him. 'Not just when it's easy. All the time.

A divided heart offers a strange sensation.

I’m not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. I’ve seen a chunk of the universe, true, but there’s still so much more to see. I doubt I’ll ever cure this wanderlust, and I’m content with dedicating my life to failing to sate it... He’s never going to sit at my feet and write me poems, which is good because I hate poetry, except dirty ones that rhyme.