He loved her for being so beautiful, and he hated her for it. He loved how she put shiny stuff on her lips for him, and he also reviled her for it. He wanted her to walk home alone, and he wanted to run after her and grab her up before she could take another step.

I sometimes think the stronger you feel about someone, the harder it is to picture their face when you are away from them.

Healing wasn’t always the best thing. Sometimes a hole was better left open. Sometimes it healed too thick and too well and left separate pieces fused and incompetent. And it was harder to reopen after that.

No matter how far back you cut a willow tree, it will never really die.

Sometimes he felt sure that the key to happiness was a poor memory.

You thought you had the choice to stay still or move forward, but your didn't. As long as your heart kept pumping an your blood kept blowing and your lungs kept filling, you didn't. The pang she felt for Tibby carried something like envy. You couldn't stand still for anything short of death, and God knew she had tried.

She had to have faith not just in trying but in failing. Was she strong enough to fail Was she strong enough not to