Someday when you're twenty, maybe, I'll see you again. You'll be this hot soccer star at some great school, with a million guys more interesting than I am chasing you down. And you know what? I'll see you and I'll pray you want me still.

Do you have any idea how much I've loved you?

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

Bridget's anger evaporated and the sadness came back. The anger was easier. She owned and contolled it, whereas the sadness owned her.

She kept walking. The very small, brave part of her brain knew that this would be her one chance. If she turned around, she would lose it.

There are two kinds of people in this world. The kind who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don't.

She perched on her windowsill, gazing at the lurid sun soaking into the Caldera, trying to appreciate it even though she couldn’t have it. Why did she always feel she had to do something in the face of beauty?