But will he come I just want to know what you think the odds are. Tell me what you really think." "I think Tibby was a wise girl. I think she loved you.

The weather turned. Her skin seemed to grow a million extra pores, and all of them opened to take in the warmth and tenderness of the air. The sun on her face made her want to cry. Into all those millions of open pores came the sunshine, and other feelings as well. In and out. She was porous.

She loved her mother and depended on her mother, and yet every single word her mother said annoyed her.

Maybe, sometimes, it's easier to be mad at the people you trust because you know they'll always love you, no matter what.

A loving soul was always more beautiful over the long haul, but actual prettiness was fleeting.

Their friendship was only one aspect of their lives but it seemed to give meaning to all the others.

I mean putting yourself out there in the way of overwhelming happiness and knowing you're also putting yourself in the way of terrible harm. I'm scared to be this happy. I'm scared to be this extreme.