Home gives you something no other place can... your history. Home is where your history begins.

And the needles of the pine trees, freshly washed to a deep, rich green, shimmered with droplets that blinked like clear crystals.

Novalee watched his lips shape the words...the sounds, like whispered secrets, hanging in the air.

Home is the place that'll catch you when you fall. And we all fall.

You're dying right now. Right this minute.' He looked at his watch, said, 'Right this second,' then tapped it with his finger. 'See there? That second passed. It's gone. Not gonna come again. And while I'm talking to you, every second I'm talking, a second is passing. Gone. Count them up. Count them down. They're gone. Each one bringing you closer to your dying time.

Well, sometimes love seems easy. Like..it's easy to love rain...and hawks. And it's easy to love wild plums...and the moon. But with people, seems like love's a hard thing to know. It gets all mixed up. I mean, you can love one person in one way and another person in another way. But how do you know you love the right one in every way?

Come on, Forney.' Novalee, it's a parasite.' But it's a tradition.' It's a parasite! And you expect people yo stand under it and kiss?' Yes! it's what people do with mistletoe.