The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.” "It’s a mirror,” Simon said. “You know – reflective, glass. I’m just assuming.

I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider.

You said I am a good man," he said. "But I am not that good a man. And I am--I am catastrophically in love with you.

How could you be heartbroken and happy at the same time?

But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You don't need to worry, though. He's not my type." "I don't think I've ever heard a girl say that before," said Simon. "I thought Jace was the kind of guy who was everyone's type.

Life is a book, and there are a thousand pages I have not read. I would read them together with you, as many as I can, before I die -" She put her hand against his chest, just over his heart, and felt its beat against her palm, a unique time signature that was all its own. "I only wish you would not speak of dying," she said. "But even for that, yes, I know how you are with your words, and, Will- I love all of them. Every word you say. The silly ones, the mad ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me. I love them, and I love you.