Over and over, we begin again.

Love is the kind of thing that's already happening by the time you notice it, that's how it works, and no matter how old you get, that doesn't change. Except that you can break it up into two entirely distinct types -- love where there's an end in sight and love where there isn't.

Sometimes people put up walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.

It didn't matter whether he was nearby or far away. His image would drift up into your mind just when you least expected it, shocking you, making your chest pound. Making your heart ache.

Over and over, we begin again.

I spent most of my time thinking, because I didn't have enough energy to do anything else.

Fate is a ladder on which you cannot afford to miss a single rung. To skip out on even one step would mean you'll never make it to the top.